Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wilbur? Are you awake?” He felt a hand, running through his hair and bringing him to awareness. He tried to make a noise, but the only thing he could muster was a pitiful squeak. “Oh Wil,” the voice cooed, and he melted.

… Was he Wilbur?

There was an overwhelming static in his head. Unrelenting buzzing. His mind was an endless extent of nothingness. He, Wilbur , attempted to remember something, anything, but he came up empty.

“Are you okay?” the voice asked. Wilbur’s vision was too blurry to make out any actual shapes, but he was pretty sure there was another person sitting beside him. He could faintly make out a bright yellow color, though.

Then the person put a hand on his shoulder, and a memory came crashing back into his mind.

“Tommy,” Wilbur breathed.

“Y- yeah, yes! Yes, it’s me! Tommy! Do you- do you remember?” Wilbur shook his head fervently. Whether it was to try and dispel the static, or just to tell Tommy that he didn’t remember, Wilbur himself didn’t actually know. Faintly, Wilbur registered tears streaming down his face. In the act of shakily pushing himself into a sitting position, he realized that he’d been lying down. His vision cleared, if only slightly, and he stared at Tommy. Tommy, who had a sweet smile and golden hair. Tommy felt safe.

“Wilbur? D- are you okay?” Tommy asked worriedly. Wilbur nodded, sniffling, trying to stop crying. He felt embarrassed, even though he knew, deep within him, that Tommy was safe. He was being weak. He knew that. Tommy wouldn’t want to deal with that. Wilbur didn’t know very much about Tommy. He could only remember associating Tommy with happiness, but maybe Tommy would be mad at Wilbur? He didn’t know. Not knowing was scary.

Wilbur tried to push the thoughts down and focus on what he knew. He knew that his name was Wilbur, right? He seemed to have his motor and language skills intact. He just couldn’t remember… anything else. But he knew that Tommy was good and perfect and safe and-

And that he needed Tommy.

Eyes dilating as he lost all rational thought, Wilbur threw himself forwards into Tommy’s arms. He melted into Tommy’s arms immediately, because it was so warm.

“Oh, Wil,” Tommy cooed. “Are you scared?” And Wilbur didn’t want to be weak and afraid, but that was the truth. He didn’t remember, and that scared him! So he tentatively nodded, and Tommy pulled him closer, placing his head on his lap. Wilbur practically started to purr when Tommy began to run his fingers through his hair again.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and Wilbur’s nerves began to fade. He felt safe. Tommy was safe.

“So, Wilbur,” Tommy said, immediately causing Wilbur to tense because all of a sudden, Tommy sounded mad. Was he mad at Wilbur? Oh no, Wilbur was being clingy. Now more than ever, Wilbur tried to force a memory, to recall anything. He felt so helpless, and now that Tommy was mad? Wilbur would-

“I’m not mad,” Tommy told him, and Wilbur believed him. Tommy would never lie. “But I have a question, and I need you to answer it. Do you… do you remember anything?”

Wilbur sat up, pushing himself out of Tommy’s lap. Dread settled in his stomach, leaving Tommy like that, but he had to. So, he looked Tommy in the eyes, and…

“No,” he admitted quietly, his voice sounding small. His eyes started to water.

“Oh, hey, you’re okay!” Tommy comforted, sounding genuinely happy. Wilbur immediately relaxed again. “I’ll help you remember everything that you need to, okay?”

“Really?” Wilbur asked, his voice saturated with hope and excitement.

“Yeah! I promise. Do you have any questions, something that you’re confused about?”

Well. Wilbur wanted to know what happened to him to make him forget. But that seemed like a rude first question, and he seemed to have an instinctual distaste for saying anything Tommy would find rude.

He probably just didn’t want to make Tommy sad. Wilbur thought that maybe, he loved Tommy? He wasn’t sure. Maybe Tommy knew.

But that’s also a blunt first question. So, Wilbur would start small.

“Where are we?”

“We’re in your room, currently. If you want, you can look around!” Wilbur did as he was prompted to, glancing around the room. It was pretty extravagant. The walls were lined with bookcases that were stocked with books. There was art on the walls, and even the floor had a trim that gave off fancy vibes.

(There weren’t any windows.)

“We’re in my, uh, palace,” Tommy continued. “If you could call it that.”

“You’re royalty?”

“Yeah! And well, you are too, kinda. We’re like brothers.”

“Brothers?” Wilbur echoed, like a child.

“Don’t say that, I will cry,” Tommy replied wistfully, like he was quoting an inside joke that Wilbur didn’t understand. But Wilbur didn’t voice his confusion. There was a lot more pressing concerns.

Like what happened to Wilbur.

If they were brothers, Wilbur could ask Tommy what happened, right? … Well, what did he have to lose?

“What happened?” Wilbur inquired quietly, his voice dying out at the end of the question.

“You mean why you forgot?” Wilbur nodded. If Tommy was mad, he was doing a better job of masking it. But he probably was mad. Wilbur felt wrong again, like he shouldn’t have said that. He was being ungrateful, wasn’t he? Tommy looked unhappy. Tommy was scowling at him! Wilbur was being bad, because he shouldn’t need to know what happened- “Do you really want to know?”

And now Wilbur violently shook his head. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t! He shouldn’t! Knowing felt wrong, it felt bad, and the feeling inside of him hurt. But as soon as he shook his head no, Tommy gave him a smile, and the feeling went away.

So… Wilbur chose correctly? Okay.

“Wilbur, I know you’re scared, but you’re doing very well,” Tommy comforted. “I’m sure that forgetting is scary. I promise that you can trust me. I will always be here for you.”

Wilbur nodded, tears budding in his eyes again, just as he had forced them to stop. “O-okay.”

“Although… while you heal, you’re gonna have to stay in your room. Don’t worry, though! I’ll stay here for most of the time, okay? And I can bring you something to do when you’re alone.”

Wilbur averted his eyes down, as meeting Tommy’s gaze suddenly felt like too much. He nodded, this time the movement barely recognizable because of how small it was. But he felt Tommy’s smile, like a glow he could bask in. He could do this, for Tommy.

And for his healing, he supposed. And when his memories came back, he’d remember Tommy, and he wouldn’t be so ungrateful and stupid and clingy and worthless and anno-

Wilbur’s face was buried in Tommy’s shirt again. He didn’t even know he’d moved this time. He supposed it was instinct, to find safety in Tommy. Tommy was safe.

“Wilbur,” Tommy soothed again, his voice soft and loving, and Wilbur needed it. He felt helpless without Tommy. His mind was an endless nothingness, but in the center of it all stood Tommy. So at the moment, Tommy was his whole world. “You’re so good.”

And Wilbur’s brain couldn’t take all of the kindness, so he slipped into sleep, knowing that he was safe.

When Wilbur woke up, he was still safely ensconced in Tommy’s arms.

“Good morning, sleepy,” Tommy said. Wilbur smiled up at him. And then realized that he still didn’t remember anything.

“Tom-“

“Are you hungry?” Tommy asked. Oh, maybe the discomfort Wilbur kept getting in his stomach was hunger? He guessed that made sense. Enough.

So Wilbur nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get us something to eat,” Tommy told him. “Will you be okay here on your own?”

“Yes,” Wilbur replied immediately, not wanting to be a dead weight Tommy that had to drag around. Tommy grinned and ruffled his hair. Wilbur leaned into the touch and tried not to seem sad when Tommy moved his hand away.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Tommy got up and left the room. Wilbur heard the door click as Tommy closed it. It was probably just the noise the doorknob made.

Wilbur decided to take this time to look around his room, see if anything jogged his memory. Slowly, he climbed out of the bed, sad to leave his and Tommy’s lingering warmth. Still, the air outside of the bed was pleasant, and Wilbur felt comforted. The carpet on the floor was soft, and Wilbur had to bend over and rub his hands across it a few times so he could fully appreciate it.

All of a sudden, a whisper in his mind told him that he desperately wanted Tommy back. It reminded him how alone he was. A pit opened up in his stomach and he panicked, pressing his back up against the wall. Fear threatened to overwhelm him, and he shut his eyes, sinking to the ground.

Knees pulled tightly to his chest, he started to tug at his hair as tears leaked from his eyes. He was alone and afraid and he needed Tommy and he was so so scared-

And then he was in Tommy’s arms. Tommy whispered soft kindnesses into his ear as he came back to awareness.

Wilbur whimpered and tried to make himself smaller.

“Aw, Wil,” Tommy said softly. “Do you have separation anxiety?” Oh no, he hoped not. Was that a bad thing? Wilbur wasn’t really sure. “That’s good,” Tommy whispered, almost too quietly for Wilbur to hear.

Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe he made it up. But he could confirm whether it was real or not.

“Is it?” Wilbur asked.

“Yeah! Wilbur, you’re perfect. I know you don’t remember everything… but do you trust me?” Wilbur nodded vehemently, almost hurting his neck in the process.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, y- yes,” Wilbur replied. “I do, I do.” He wasn’t sure why it felt so important to him that he trust Tommy. But it was important, and he did trust Tommy, and…

Did he love Tommy? Did Tommy love him? He wasn’t sure. Maybe he should ask?

“Do I love you?” Wilbur blurted, not thinking clearly. His brain was muddled with affection and lingering fear, and he didn’t think that maybe he shouldn’t have asked that-

“You do. And more than anyone else, I love you, Wilbur.”

“Really?”

“You’re my favorite,” Tommy cooed, gently taking Wilbur’s face in his hands and looking at him. Wilbur let him, because Tommy cared about him.

So… Wilbur loved Tommy. That was good to know.

“Anyways,” Tommy continued, placing Wilbur down on the bed, “I did bring food. Would you like to eat now?” Wilbur was hungry. That was what the bad feeling had been, he’d decided.

“Yes please,” he answered. Tommy handed him a golden food that Wilbur couldn’t put a name to. He wanted to ask what it was, but the words died in his throat. It didn’t matter anyway. Tommy wouldn’t give him something that was bad. So, Wilbur took the food and shoved it in his mouth. And wow, was it amazing! Wilbur felt a warmth run through him that almost felt cleansing. It kinda tasted like.. honey. The food did look like honeycomb. So maybe that’s what he was eating?

Tommy handed him another piece. And another. After four or five, he told Wilbur that he’d eaten enough. Wilbur nodded, accepting this. He wanted more of the food, but Tommy was probably just trying to keep him healthy.

“Is there anything else you want, Wil? You can have anything in the entire world, y’know. The whole, uh, royalty thing.”

Wilbur didn’t really want anything. He was happy here with Tommy. He could already feel his memories coming back! Spending a sunny day in the park with Tommy, the two of them having ice cream, and giggling together, late at night. He wasn’t remembering any times that Tommy wasn’t there, not yet, but that was okay! Tommy was very important to him. He knew that. Other memories would come back in time.

There was one thing that stood out to Wilbur. One thing that he wanted. He wasn’t in this room - his room - in any of his newfound memories. Maybe leaving the room would help him remember more! And Wilbur didn’t like (feeling trapped) being cooped up in a small space.

“Can I please leave my room?” he asked. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

“I- uh- I’m starting to remember,” Wilbur explained, nervous that Tommy wouldn’t believe him, even though it was the truth. “ You . So maybe seeing other parts of the, um, palace, it’ll help me remember? And I wanna go outside. P- please.” Tommy hummed.

“Okay!” he replied. “Let’s go! But one thing, okay? Promise me that you’ll stay right by my side. You’re still very fragile from the incident, and with your memory… I don’t want anything bad to happen. If I tell you to do something, you have to do it. It’s for your own safety.” Now Wilbur was starting to feel nervous.

“Isn’t it just your house? Shouldn’t it be safe?”

“Yes, but… we’ve had a few small safety issues lately. They should all be resolved. It’s just in case. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” And so, Tommy took his hand and led him to the door. He opened it and Wilbur felt a rush of excitement as he stepped out of his room. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand as they walked down long hallways that Wilbur didn’t recognize.

“Do you wanna go into the courtyard?” Tommy asked. “We planted all of your favorite flowers there. Remember?”

“I don’t remember,” Wilbur said sadly. He looked down at his feet guiltily. “But we can go.” So, Tommy brought him outside. Wilbur really liked being outdoors! The open air sparked a feeling inside of him that he couldn’t put a name to. It was like… excitement, happiness, (a little bit of fear that he didn’t understand) and tranquility. Wilbur giggled like a little kid and plopped down into the bright green grass. Each blade was uniformly cut and was thriving. There wasn’t any dead grass at all, and no sticks poked his side.

“Oh, do you wanna see all of the plants and animals?” Tommy offered. “They’re really cool. You always used to like them! Maybe they can help you bring back your memories?”

“Sure!” Wilbur agreed. Tommy bounded over to him (why the hell did Wilbur feel the need to repress a flinch) and extended a hand. (Maybe he was just nervous. Jumpy. Yeah, that made sense.) Wilbur excitedly took his hand and let Tommy lead him to the garden.

Happily by his brother’s side, he wandered through the vast array of plants. There were abundant fruits and vegetables, but also cool flowers and trees! Tommy pressured Wilbur into climbing one of the thickest trees. Luckily, if Wilbur had a fear of heights, he didn’t remember it! And the view was beautiful from the top of the tree. Wilbur could see clouds that went on for miles! The sky was a perfect blue, the same color as Tommy’s eyes.

“Do you know how to get down?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah, of course I do!” He definitely didn’t.

“Oh sure, I bet. And you’re gonna take a page out of my book, declare yourself a big man who doesn’t need any help?” That phrase didn’t ring any bells in Wilbur’s memory.

“I’m just smarter than you, Toms.” Where did that nickname come from? “I can get down just fine. I’m older, after all!” Was he? This banter came so naturally to Wilbur, but no memories backed it up.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I can call a servant over with a ladder if you need it, Wilbur.”

“No, no, I don’t wanna bother anyone. I’ll just climb down.” Wilbur tried to slip down to the branch below him but almost fell. “Fuck,” he hissed.

“You used to be good at this!” Tommy remarked, stifling laughter.

“Well, I forgot!” Wilbur snapped. Tommy’s expression immediately changed. Wilbur didn’t know if Tommy was hurt or angry, but it didn’t matter. Wilbur- oh no- he- he’d just- why was he like this? He shouldn’t have yelled at Tommy! Tommy was going to be mad! How stupid could Wilbur be? Maybe Wilbur was just a bad person. He was taking everything that Tommy had shown him for granted!

“Hey, you don’t need to cry! I’m- I’m not mad at you,” Tommy said. Oh, Wilbur was crying? Shakily, he peeled an arm off of the branch he was clinging to and wiped his tears on his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur apologized. “I promise, I won’t do it again. I’ll be good.” Was that enough? Would Tommy still be mad? (But he said he wasn’t mad! Maybe he was lying? Because Wilbur was not supposed to make Tommy sad. Even though… Tommy loved him? No matter what? It didn’t make sense.)

Wilbur’s brain was stupid.

“I forgive you,” Tommy replied, and Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief. “Now, I’m coming up there to help you get down.” Tommy was as good as his word. He climbed up with ease and guided Wilbur down, step by step. After that, Tommy decided that Wilbur was a little overwhelmed and should go back to his room.

“Okay,” Wilbur relented, despite being a little disappointed. He hadn’t even gotten to see the animals yet! And his memory wasn’t back. But, he supposed Tommy was right. Wilbur was shaking. And Tommy was just trying to take care of him.

They started to walk back to Wilbur’s room. He didn’t recognize any of the hallways they went down. Maybe they were taking a different path.

Wilbur turned a corner, walking ahead of Tommy for a short moment. And his eyes landed on a trio of people who were walking from the other end of the hallway. Two of them were dressed in full armor, like guards. And the third, being restrained and dragged by the guards, wa-

“Wilbur?”

“-UN! RUN- WILBUR, YOU HAVE TO RUN, WE’RE NOT GONNA MA-“

Wilbur’s knees went weak and he dropped onto the ground. His breathing grew frantic, and he thought he might be panicking. His chest tightened and it hurt -

Through the water that clouded his eyes, through the pain, he made eye contact with the person who called his name.

And the person’s name was on the tip of his tongue, a memory that he could feel trying to push to the surface.

But the person was quickly escorted away, and Wilbur’s emotions overwhelmed him. Tommy rushed to his side and kneeled down next to him.

“Wilbur, what…”

“It hurts, it hurts, Tommy,” Wilbur cried. “My head, I can’t- I don’t…”

“Let’s go back to your room.”

Tommy picked him up off the ground with ease and carried him. Wilbur tried to calm himself, to feel safe enough to drift off in Tommy’s arms. But… what had just happened ? Was that a memory? Wilbur shuddered at the thought. It was all so much! It didn’t make sense. His head was pounding.

Tommy placed him down on his bed, bringing him back to awareness. Gently, Tommy pet the side of his face in attempt to soothe him.

“You’re okay,” Tommy muttered. “You’re safe.”

Wilbur sniffled, damming his tears. He was safe. He was okay.

He felt sleep tugging at the edge of his mind again, and he allowed it to consume him. Just before he drifted off, he could’ve sworn he heard Tommy whisper one last thing.

“My Wilbur.”

Chapter Text

“Wilbur, we’re gonna spend all of today hanging out in your room, okay? There’s some problems in the palace that need to be sorted out, and I don’t want you exposed to them. But you won’t be alone, because I’m here! All day, okay?”

Wilbur drowsily blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Alright.” The nervous pit in his stomach was still there, but it was significantly less large.

“So, do you remember any card games?”

Apparently, Wilbur did not. And even though Tommy was horrible at explaining how to play any form of cards, Wilbur still found himself winning every game they played. They did Go Fish, War, Hearts, Poker, Crazy Eights, some game that had a stupid name: Gin Rummy, and Wilbur even somehow won at Solitaire!

“Uno,” Wilbur said smugly, grinning.

“WE’RE PLAYING FUCKING BLACKJACK!” Tommy shouted. “HOW THE HELL DO YOU HAVE UNO?”

Tommy explained the rules of the game, and Wilbur won the very next round. Maybe it was just an instinct? Or maybe Tommy just sucked at cards.

“Okay, what card game is next?” Wilbur asked.

“No more cards,” Tommy grumbled, trying and failing to shove the deck back into its box. “We’re doing something else now. Y- you choose.”

Wilbur’s face fell. He… couldn’t think of any pastime activities. He didn’t remember any interests that he had. Wilbur was drawing a blank. He searched his mind trying to think of anything that he liked, but only came up with Tommy. Spending time with Tommy. Doing what Tommy wanted.

Surely, Tommy wasn’t the only thing in his life? (No, no, no, no, don’t think that. That’s ungrateful, that’s wrong, that’s bad. He was Tommy’s, and Tommy was the only person he needed. Wilbur’s mind screamed that at him, over and over, but he wasn’t sure if he believed it.)

“I can’t think of anything,” Wilbur admitted. “I- I don’t…”

“Oh. Uh… here, stay here! I’ll go get a few things.” Tommy ran out of the room (the door clicked as he shut it) and Wilbur was alone.

It felt like the walls were closing in on him. Wilbur squeezed his eyes shut. He was alone, he hated being alone! He needed Tommy. That was the one thing he remembered! Until his memory was back in full, Wilbur knew that he was nothing without Tommy. Right? That made sense (no, he knew it didn’t).

Without thinking, without thinking that he was disobeying Tommy, he sprinted for the door and tried to open it.

(The door was locked, he realized. Tommy had locked him in. Why did the door lock from the outside?) Okay, okay, deep breaths. Tommy said he had separation anxiety? What was that, some kind of twisted codependency? Wilbur could survive without Tommy for a second. He wasn’t a child. He didn’t need Tommy.

Plus, leaving the room would be going against what Tommy said! And he didn’t want to piss Tommy off.

Wilbur took in a shaky breath and stepped away from the door. (He needed some air. He wished there was a window to open.) To try and calm himself, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. But the sound of footsteps instantly pulled him from his head, causing him to flinch.

“Tommy?” he called out. No response. The footsteps increased in volume as they grew closer to his door, but continued on past it. Wilbur released a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. He just had to focus on anything besides his stupid brain’s stupid fear.

He was being stupid.

He was stupid.

Wilbur glanced around his room, and his eyes landed on the large bookshelf that almost took up a whole wall. He took a step towar-

“ -love to read, right? Well, this will keep you occupied until you decide to f-“

Wilbur whimpered as the memory crashed into his mind, but it didn’t hurt as much as the other one. (He didn’t want to think about the other memory. It hurt too much. Not physical pain, but…)

He pushed the thoughts out of his mind. His brain was getting too loud again. (The static was always pressing at the corner of his mind, repressing something.) So, he loved to read? That was good to know! He skimmed the spines of the books, reading them.

He noticed that one of the books looked significantly more worn than the other ones, like it had been read a lot. Wilbur tentatively grabbed it off the shelf.

“The Art of War,” he read. It sounded… familiar. Somehow. Maybe it would help his memory? Wilbur gently flipped to the first page and s-

“Wil! I’m back!” Tommy greeted. Wilbur jumped and dropped the book. “Oh, what’re you reading?”

“I- uh- the- The Art of W- War,” Wilbur stammered nervously. Was he not supposed to be looking at the books? Tommy stepped over to him and picked up the book off of the ground. He hummed disapprovingly as he examined it, looking inside.

“I thought I took this out of here.” He looked up at Wilbur and his normal sweet smile returned to his face. “Sorry, man! This one’s, um, my dad’s copy, and he doesn’t want us to accidentally ruin it. It’s like, super old. I’ll bring it back to him when we’re done hanging out.” Tommy slipped the book into his back pocket and Wilbur tried not to dwell on it. “Anyways, I brought a bunch of stuff! I have your old switch, I have some drawing stuff, and- oh! Nail polish! What d’you wanna do?”

Wilbur paused for a second, pressing his lips together. He just had one question. It was a dumb question, definitely, but he wanted to know. “Is- isn’t your dad… also mine? Since we’re brothers?”

“Oh, no, you’re adopted,” Tommy answered. “He’s not your dad. But he really likes you! I just didn’t want him to come in here yet while you’re recovering, because I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Wilbur replied reflexively, even though it didn’t make sense at all. If he was adopted, wouldn’t…? Eh, whatever. Tommy wouldn’t lie to him. He sucked at explaining card games, so he probably couldn’t explain familial relationships either.

“If you want, you can meet him,” Tommy offered. “In a little while, of course. He’s busy right now.” Wilbur nodded.

“If you want me to,” Wilbur said. Tommy grinned, and Wilbur couldn’t help but mirror the expression. (Woohoo! He’d said the right thing!) “Um… so, do you wanna do the nail polish now?” Wilbur didn’t remember what a switch was, and he didn’t feel like drawing. Plus, painting nails seemed fairly easy. Wilbur wouldn’t be able to fuck it up, right? Even if his brain was being stupid.

“Yeah! I have every color. Do you wanna pick what color I use?” Wilbur pondered this, trying to remember what Tommy’s favorite color was.

He came up empty.

“Um… yellow?” Yellow was a nice color. It was like Tommy’s hair! Hopefully Tommy would like it.

Tommy grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up. “And here, you can do red.” Wilbur nodded. Carefully, he unscrewed the top off the bottle Tommy handed him and tried to spread the red paint onto his nails. His hands shook, and he kept getting the polish all over his skin, but at least he got full coverage of his nails! That was okay, right? But then he looked over at Tommy, whose nails didn’t have any lumps, blemishes, or mistakes, and he tensed.

“Oh, holy shit, Wil! It looks like you killed a man!”

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur immediately apologized.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Tommy replied. “Do you need help cleaning it up?”

So, Tommy fixed up his nails and made them look neat. Wilbur just basked in Tommy’s proximity to him. The gentle hands holding his own as he worked on the nail polish just felt so nice . Wilbur was practically purring.

“Okay! All set!” Tommy held Wilbur’s hands up so he could see the finished product.

“Thank you,” Wilbur breathed shakily, awe evident in his voice. Tommy released his hands, which Wilbur quickly dropped into his lap, and Tommy stood up.

“Now, onto the next thing. You said you were ready to talk to my dad again?” Wilbur nodded. (Wilbur felt like he nodded to reply to things a lot. Talking was hard, though. It was scary. What if he said the wrong thing?) “We’re gonna have to get you dressed up and lay down some rules, then.” Tommy reached over and carded a finger through Wilbur’s hair.

“Wh- what do I have to do?”

“Mmm,” Tommy hummed. “Just a nicer outfit than your baggy t-shirt…” He gestured at Wilbur’s clothes, flicking his hand up and down. Wilbur suddenly felt very conscious of his appearance. “And a piece of advice. Make sure you’re super polite and well behaved, okay? My dad, Phil, he’s super important. Like, remember how I said we’re royalty? He’s the, um, king. He doesn’t really tolerate… insolence. But I know you’re great at behaving. You’ll behave.”

“Yes, yes, yeah, I will! I promise I’ll be good.” Wilbur clenched his fists to hide the fact that his hands were trembling. Tommy wasn’t trying to make him nervous! Wilbur just… was. Maybe it was because last time he saw someone beside Tommy, it made that painful memory come back. Maybe it was that Phil sounded scary. But Wilbur would behave! So hopefully it would be good.

Tommy smiled. “Great. Good. Amazing. Incredible. Poggers.” Wilbur snickered.

“How many synonyms for good do you know?”

“Fuckin’- all of them! I’m not stupid, Wil.”

“Really? Okay, say every synonym ever, then.”

“Um, okay, good, great, amazin-“

“Ones you haven’t already said!”

“Scrum-diddily-umptuous,” Tommy blurted with the utmost confidence. Wilbur doubled over in laughter. “It’s not funny, bitch!”

“You could’ve just said ‘nice’,” Wilbur cackled, “or terrific, delightful, alright, anything!”

“I get it, I get it. Just get all of the laughing and silliness out of your system, Wil.” Wilbur giggled for almost a minute longer before composing himself. “You done?” Wilbur took in a shaky deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Now, I have clothes for you, let’s get you ready!” The clothes in question were insanely formal and fancy looking. Wilbur wished he had his memories; maybe he had to wear this sort of outfit a lot? It was a deep green suit, made of a velvety material that Wilbur did not like to touch. It was stiff and uncomfortable, and yet it did technically fit him perfectly. Like it was made for him.

It probably was.

The outfit was complete with a white dress shirt (Wilbur thought to himself that he was glad that, at least, the shirt wasn’t ruffled. But then the thought saddened him, like it was tied to a suppressed memory. He chose to move past that) and even a matching green necklace-choker thing made of that same stupid velvet. It had a shiny emerald stone hanging down that was cold on Wilbur’s skin.

“I don’t like wearing this,” Wilbur mumbled, half hoping that Tommy wouldn’t hear him at all. “It’s not comfortable, and I look silly.”

“Aww, no, you don’t look silly! You look great. Anyways, you should be grateful I’m not making you wear all of the jewelry and stuff. Phil’s like a fucking bird with how much he loves shiny stuff. You can have a couple of the rings if you want,” Tommy offered. He held out a handful of golden rings with the same emerald stones, which Wilbur did not want to wear.

Wordlessly, he took a few of the rings and slipped them onto his fingers. Tommy’s proud face made it worth it.

“Good, Wilbur,” Tommy praised. Wilbur beamed at him. “I’m gonna go grab Phil. Stay right there, don’t move.”

Tommy left the room (the lock clicked) and Wilbur stared at the shut door. He didn’t move from where he was standing, not even to stand more comfortably. The only movement he made was small breaths and blinking. Behaving was easy enough! He was doing fine, doing good, doing amazing, poggers, scrum-diddly-umptuous.

Wilbur was being good. Right?

(He was still scared. He couldn’t escape the anxiety clawing at him from the inside.)

The door slowly creaked open, revealing Tommy leading another man into the room. The sight of the person didn’t trigger a single memory in Wilbur’s mind, but he knew it must be Phil. Tommy’s dad.

“Oh, Wilbur!” Phil cooed. “Don’t you look adorable.” Phil exchanged a glance with Tommy, and the two seemed to have a conversation with their eyes. Phil looked back at Wilbur and walked right up to him. Wilbur tensed as Phil stared at him intently. “Tommy told me about your memory, mate. You’ve really forgotten everything?”

“Y- yes, um, sir,” Wilbur stammered, trying to be polite. He didn’t know what to expect, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say, he didn’t know anything!

“Oh, no need for formalities. You can just call me Phil.”

“Phil,” Wilbur echoed, his voice shaking.

“Tommy was right, you really are good, pet,” Phil marveled, grabbing the side of Wilbur’s face. Wilbur didn’t particularly like being called ‘pet’, but he supposed it wasn’t unlike ‘mate’. (Was it, though?) Wilbur would prefer everyone just called him by his name.

“Isn’t Wilbur great?” Tommy chimed in. Phil nodded, and turned away from Wilbur. Immediately after Phil had looked away, Wilbur felt the chill running through him subside. Phil strutted over to Tommy and patted him on the shoulder.

“Good work. I’m very proud.”

And with that, he left. As soon as Phil closed the door, Tommy was running up to Wilbur excitedly.

“Wilbur! You did it! You got Phil’s approval! I- wow! This is great! Ha, even I didn’t get Phil’s approval this quickly!” Tommy grabbed Wilbur’s hands and jumped up and down giddily. “This is a cause for celebration. I’m getting a TV, bringing it in here, and we’re gonna binge all our favorite movies and have snacks. Sound good?” Wilbur vigorously nodded, not being able to form words (because he was too overwhelmed).

And then Tommy left, to go get all the stuff. It was only then that Wilbur allowed himself to try and relax. Meeting Tommy’s dad wasn’t too bad! He’d liked Wilbur! That was good!

Wilbur fidgeted with the choker, spinning it around and around his neck nervously. He walked over to his bed and contemplated sitting down on it, before deciding that he would be better off on the floor.

Tommy came back, pushing a huge television, and stared at Wilbur. “Why’re you on the floor?” Wilbur shrugged.

“Comfy,” he answered simply.

“You’re weird.”

Tommy set up the TV and joined Wilbur on the floor. “Do you wanna pick the movie?”

“Um, I can’t. Memory,” Wilbur explained.

“Oh yeah,” Tommy replied, as if remembering a trivial but relevant fun fact. “I’ll pick, then.”

Tommy chose some animated movie about a girl, a really buff dude, sentient water, and a magic rock. Wilbur really enjoyed it! It brought back a happy feeling, and he knew that he associated this film with happy times. And every time he looked over at Tommy, the blonde would have such a giddy grin that Wilbur couldn’t help but smiling too.

Before cueing up a second movie, Tommy offered up some more food. Wilbur wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he assumed that Tommy would have something besides the weird honeycomb stuff. But there it was again.

Regardless, Wilbur greedily ate the few pieces that he was given.

Immediately after turning on a second movie, Tommy fell asleep in Wilbur’s lap. His arms were tightly, almost possessively wrapped around Wilbur’s leg. It was sweet. Wilbur felt loved.

And yet…

In the back of his mind, a little voice told Wilbur that the door to his room was unlocked. That the door was only locked when Tommy was gone, because it locked from the outside. So Wilbur could leave the room if he wanted.

Well… he didn’t want to leave Tommy. He did love Tommy. That was true. But still.

Wilbur just wanted to see what was outside of his room. Maybe explore the palace a little! Surely, Tommy wouldn’t get mad about that.

Or, well, Tommy wouldn’t know, anyway. Wilbur could just sneak out. Carefully, he lifted Tommy off of him and went over to the door.

He stared at the doorknob, hands shaking. This was it. If he opened the door, he was defying Tommy. He was misbehaving. Was he unworthy of Tommy’s love?

Maybe he should just lie back down on the floor with Tommy.

Wilbur took a step back. The feeling of nervousness in his gut started to flare. Suddenly, going back to Tommy felt wrong. Without thinking, Wilbur grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Chapter Text

“-r, come here right this fucking second. You do not have the right to le-“

Wilbur winced when the memory hit him immediately upon crossing the threshold. But he wanted to explore. Just to explore! He wasn’t being bad. (Wilbur realized that some of the thoughts he had… didn’t make sense. Why did he care so much about certain things? It was just instinctual. Of course, Wilbur trusted Tommy! No doubt about that. But… why was he so afraid of disobeying?)

Wilbur took small tentative steps down the halls. The suit was stiff and he was nervous, and Wilbur started to doubt himself. There was no real reason to be leaving his room! It was stupid. He was just being curious. Curiosity was a vice that he shouldn’t be feeding into.

Wilbur scratched the side of his leg, up and down, just so that the pain could help him stay calm.

He would just set a little goal for himself, and then he’d run back to where he belonged! He just had to satiate his need to move and explore.

Okay. Wilbur would find a kitchen, get something to eat, and go back to Tommy. (His stomach was still growling faintly, and Tommy hadn’t offered him any more of his snacks. If Tommy woke up and saw that Wilbur had taken some of his food, that would not go over well. So, Wilbur would just have to find some food of his own.)

He wandered down long hallways and did not give into the desire to peek into every room. (Even the doors that he heard noises behind.) A shiver immediately went down his spine when he found himself standing in a long passageway thats walls were made up of bars. Prison cells, of a sort, his mind supplied. He took a small stumbling step backwards and turned to lea-

“Holy shit, Wilbur?” someone exclaimed. Wilbur froze, and the person started to laugh in disbelief. Wilbur willed himself to move, to run, but he couldn’t. His mind and body were working against him. Why couldn’t he run? He had to go back- someone had seen him misbehaving! Oh, Tommy was going to be- he was going- he-

“Woah, okay, Wil, calm down. It’s just me! I-“ they broke off into another laugh, but this one sounded leagues sadder. “Come over here.” Wilbur walked over towards the sound of their voice, and immediately upon seeing them, he connected their face to a name.

“Quackity,” Wilbur breathed.

“Wilbur. What happened to you, man? Did To-“

“I don’t know who you are,” Wilbur blurted. He was aware that his eyes were wide, that he was shaking. Quackity (why did he remember his name, why did he know this person) was behind bars. He was in one of the cells. Regardless, he still seemed so confident, like he wouldn’t let anyone tell him what to do.

So Wilbur was afraid. Wilbur didn’t want to be lesser than whoever Quackity was, but it made sense enough. (Was Wilbur lesser than Tommy?)

Quackity furrowed his brows and stared at Wilbur, examining him.

“You really don’t, huh?” He looked at Wilbur for a few more seconds of silence, and then another sharp laugh escaped him. “He’s even got a fucking collar on you! Gods!” Wilbur fumbled to grab at the choker on his neck with shaky fingers.

“It’s- it’s a choker,” he mumbled. “Not a collar.” Quackity ignored that statement completely, turning away and starting to pace in his cell.

“That sick bastard,” Quackity spat. (Wilbur flinched.) Quackity stormed back up to the bars of the cell and made direct eye contact with Wilbur. Reflexively, Wilbur took a step back and looked down at his feet. “Wilbur,” Quackity said urgently. “What do you remember?”

“I- I don’t-… your name?”

“I gathered that. About anything else, I mean. About me, George, your life, Tommy .”

“Who’s George?” Wilbur asked. Quackity shook his head and waved a hand to prompt Wilbur to continue talking. “I- I remember Tommy. He’s my brother, he-“

“Okay, forget that bullshit. Wil, you need to-“

Someone loudly cleared their throat from the end of the hallway, and Quackity immediately stopped talking.

“Wilbur. What are you doing?” Tommy asked. Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat. Tommy was going to be so mad.

“He remembers me, Tommy,” Quackity sing-songed, almost sounding smug. No, no, he was lying! Wilbur had no idea who Quackity was! (But there was still that air of familiarity, and he knew his name.)

“No I didn’t!” Wilbur immediately exclaimed. “Just his name, just his name, I promise.”

Quackity and Tommy were ignoring Wilbur. They looked like they were having a staring contest or something. After minutes of tense silence, Quackity averted his gaze to the ground. The edges of Tommy’s mouth quirked up into a smile.

“Wilbur, go back to your room, please. I’ll meet you there in a few seconds.” He said that nonchalantly, without even looking away from Quackity for a second. Wilbur wordlessly obeyed. He found his room with ease, eternally glad that he didn’t get lost, and stood in the doorway.

He froze there for a moment, just staring.

Then he decided to hide under the bed. It felt safer there. He dreaded the moment when Tommy came back to scold him.

So he curled up in the fetal position under his bed, knees to his chest, shaking.

Tommy didn’t come immediately.

Wilbur fell asleep.

Unbeknownst to him, Tommy came into the room and let him sleep for hours before gently shaking him awake. “Wilbur,” he cooed. Wilbur drowsily blinked at Tommy, eyes dilated, before recalling his recent insubordination.

“Tommy, ‘m really sorry,” he slurred, tripping over his tongue. “I don’t rem’ber Quackity, I don’t-“

“I’m not mad,” Tommy soothed. “Wilbur, I’m worried about you. You’ve been on edge a lot, always apologizing for everything! I love you, Wilbur, you’re my favorite! I could never be angry with you for something that small. But can you tell me why you wanted to leave your room?”

“I was hungry,” Wilbur admitted shamefully. Tommy sighed and extended a hand out to Wilbur. Wilbur took it, and Tommy pulled him out from under the bed.

“I could’ve given you food, Wil. You just have to ask!”

“Oh. Um… can I please have food?” Tommy nodded.

“I have a plate for you here.” He handed Wilbur a plate of that same weird gold stuff. Wilbur dutifully took a piece and shoved it in his mouth. The sweet honey taste was delightful as ever, but Wilbur still had his doubts.

“What is this?” he asked as soon as he’d finished chewing.

“Ambrosia,” Tommy answered simply. Wilbur snickered. Wasn’t ambrosia the food that gods ate in Greek myths? Tommy was funny.

It was probably just honeycomb.

“But Wilbur, seriously. You’re not trapped here, man, but you have to ask me before you go running around the palace! I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Wilbur nodded fervently. “I- I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I won’t.”

“-OU CAN’T FUCKING KEEP ME HERE FOREVER! SERIOUSLY! LET ME OUT! PLEASE, P- please, please.” His anger broke off into a sob, and he slumped down on the floor, his back up against the door. “T-“

Wilbur carefully repressed a flinch and kept his expression the same. Tommy didn’t seem to notice the memory hitting Wilbur this time. (Wilbur wasn’t sure why he felt the need to hide the content of these memories from Tommy. But telling Tommy didn’t feel safe. Even though Tommy was safe. It didn’t make sense.)

“So,” Tommy continued. “Did Quackity say anything to you?”

Wilbur nodded, eyes wide. “He- he was scary. He was mad . He said that the choker you gave me was a collar, he- I don’t think he likes you very much, and he wanted to know about my memory. But I don’t remember anything , and I don’t remember him, and-“ Wilbur cut himself off, starting to cry. “And I don’t know if I’m supposed to? If I want to? Should I? And he asked me about my life, about George, and I don’t know who that is either, and I don’t know anything, and I feel so stupid .”

“Aww, you’re not stupid, Wil. You can’t control what happened. Your memory isn’t your fault. Quackity, he’s just… he’s not very nice, to put it simply. He hurt you, Wilbur. I think he wants to hurt you again.“

“Is it his fault I forgot everything?” Wilbur asked, his voice sounding small. Tommy hummed.

“Uh… kinda. I just want you to be safe, okay?”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

Tommy rolled his eyes lightheartedly with a smile. “What did I say about apologizing?” Wilbur refrained from saying sorry again. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“You pick.” Tommy thought for a moment.

“Oh! I know! Do you wanna go down to one of the kitchens and bake something? We always used to do that together. We can make muffins!”

“Yeah, that sounds fun!”

“Now, just a warning, there’s probably gonna be some servants there, but they won’t bother us.” Wilbur nodded again. Tommy pulled him to his feet and allowed him to change back into his old clothes. Then he led him out of the room.

Chapter Text

“This is the kitchen!” Tommy said.

“Woah,” Wilbur gasped. “It’s so big!” There were way many counters than seemed necessary, multiple ovens, and a ton of huge cabinets. Tommy got to work, running around the kitchen, grabbing bowls and ingredients and slamming them down on the counter in front of Wilbur. “Wh- what am I supposed to do?” Was Wilbur supposed to remember how to bake?

“Hey, man, don’t stress. All the famous chefs say that worrying about amnesia and having anxiety ruins your baking.”

“I doubt they say that.”

“How would you know?” Tommy teased. Because it was just that! Teasing. His tone was lighthearted and Wilbur surprisingly didn’t feel hurt at all. Tommy handed him a spatula with a smile and Wilbur felt all of his fear, nervousness, and dread (that he didn’t even know he had) melt away. He grabbed the spatula and excitedly awaited Tommy’s instruction.

“Okay, what flavor muffin do we wanna make?” Tommy started to root through a cupboard, shoving stuff around. “We can do chocolate, or chocolate chip, or- or banana? Or honestly, I bet we could use ambrosia, that would be fucking awesome. Or pumpkin, cinnamon, uh… chocolate? Did I say that yet? Is vanilla even an option for muffins? And… lavender? Blueberry?”

Wilbur did not process any of that.

“The, um, first one.”

“I think I said… chocolate first?”

“Yes,” Wilbur agreed.

“Okay! Pog! Let’s get to it! I have the cocoa powder, and the sugar, which I like to call cocaine, and… and milk? And the other stuff. The baking soda which isn’t soda at all, so it’s weird as fuck, and I tried to drink it once, which didn’t go well, and I don’t even know the difference between baking soda and baking powd-“

“Tommy? You wanna get started?” Tommy blinked, his face going blank for a second.

“Oh. Yup. Sorry.”

The brothers started to work on making their muffins. Tommy seemed to have a recipe memorized, so he would just tell Wilbur what to  do and Wilbur would promptly do it. He made sure that all of his measurements were exact and that nothing was incorrect. The muffins had to be perfect! There wasn’t any room for error in their plan.

Despite what Tommy had said, there weren’t any servants in the kitchen. But it was for the better. Wilbur decided that he didn’t really like other people besides Tommy. Quackity was scary and Phil was weird and George was apparently also a person. And there were definitely other people in existence, not like they gave a shit about Wilbur.

Tommy was great, though. Even though occasionally, he would be scared around Tommy, he’d always recover. Tommy calmed him down and made sure he was happy. And Wilbur realized something. He was the problem, not Tommy. His stupid memory and his anxiety had caused all of their mishaps. Wilbur’s constant apologizing annoyed Tommy, but Tommy still stayed. Even though Wilbur was slow to communicate properly, Tommy took care to find out his needs and tend to them.

Tommy was safe and Wilbur loved Tommy.

“Wil! What color muffin wrapper do you wanna use?” Tommy asked, gesturing to a wide array of colors and patterns on one of the shelves.

“Cat,” Wilbur answered. Tommy snickered and grabbed the purple liners with little black cats on them.

“These?” Wilbur nodded vehemently. Tommy smiled and started to put the liners into the muffin tin. “Can you start scooping the batter into the muffin things?” Wilbur quickly came over, bowl in hand, and started doing as Tommy said. Once they were done, Tommy put the pan in the oven.

“How long do they cook for?” Wilbur inquired.

“Twenty minutes or so,” Tommy replied. He turned to the dishes, probably with intent to start cleaning up, but paused. “Wait. Actually, I have to go talk to Phil about something really important. Wilbur, stay here. You don’t have to clean up, I’ll send in a servant if I see one in the halls. Just stay here please, okay?”

“Stay here,” Wilbur echoed. Tommy gave him a nod of approval and ran out of the room.

And Wilbur was alone.

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to go in any of the chairs, so he just plopped down on the tiled floor and sat up against the kitchen island. As soon as he let his body relax, he heard footsteps and tensed all over again. By now, he’d learned to recognize Tommy’s footsteps, and these were not those.

Wilbur scrambled to his feet and found himself standing at attention. The person entered the kitchen (dark hair, a white uniform, stubble on their chin, and Wilbur searched his mind to find if it was a familiar face, coming up empty) and didn’t look at Wilbur at all. They walked up to one of the other ovens with a blank expression.

Were they ignoring Wilbur purposefully? Had he done something wrong?

“Hello? S- sir?” No response. “Did I…” No, idiot! He shouldn’t ask if he did something wrong, shouldn’t try so hard to get approval! Wilbur always did this, he needed validation so desperately. He was so fucking clingy, and to some random guy he’d never met! He snapped his mouth shut.

He watched silently as the person opened the oven and pulled something out of it. Wilbur hadn’t even known that oven was on! And Wilbur deduced that the person was probably a servant. That made sense. That’s probably why they were ignoring Wilbur. They just didn’t want to bother him, they didn’t hate him! Right? Right. (Wilbur wanted Tommy back. His mind was too scary when Tommy wasn’t around.)

The servant placed some bread (which apparently had been in the oven) on the counter and then started to walk towards Wilbur. But they brushed past him, never even sparing him a glance, and grabbed a towel. Wilbur just looked as they started to clean the oven. Slowly, Wilbur started to faintly detect a smell that he recognized as burning meat. And… a sizzling sound?

Wilbur tentatively took a step closer to the servant and realized with a jolt that their hand was fully pressed onto the side of the oven and was burning.

“Oh- holy fuck, dude, are you okay? I-“ Wilbur walked a little closer to the servant, who continued to gently scrub at the oven with no regard for their hand or for him. “You’re hurting yourself,” Wilbur observed aloud, sounding like the stupid idiot that he knew he was. Wilbur slowly reached out and put a hand on their shoulder in attempt to shake them out of their stupor, but got no reaction. They didn’t even move when he tried to pull them away!

“Okay, I- I’m gonna go get Tommy,” Wilbur said. He turned and started to leave the kitc-

Someone pushed him down to the ground from behind. They grabbed his head, forced him down, and he collapsed into a sitting position.

“ Sit . Stay - stay right there. Do not move, do not leave,” they ordered. Wilbur gasped for breath, mouth agape, trying his hardest to hold back tears. Through desperate blurry eyes, he realized that the person talking was the servant. He tried to speak, to apologize, but he couldn’t get any coherent words out.

They left the kitchen promptly, and Wilbur couldn’t bring himself to move at all. His mind was running a million miles a minute. He couldn’t stop shaking, he couldn’t dam the tears that were running down his face. Wilbur realized then and there that Tommy had told him not to leave the kitchen! What if this had all been a test, and Wilbur failed?

The servant’s voice had been so commanding, and Wilbur had immediately gone pliant under the sound of their voice. It was so natural to obey, but now he couldn’t move. Wilbur was scared, he was terrified, and Tommy was going to be mad! And the servant had still gotten such a bad burn, and their weird behavior didn’t make sense to Wilbur, and he didn’t understand.

Wilbur curled into himself to try and seem smaller. He could be good, he had to be good, be good good good good goodgoodgoodgoodgoodgoodgood

A few minutes later (minutes that felt like hours), Tommy would find Wilbur sitting on the kitchen floor, face wet with tears and smeared with snot, shaking and sobbing.

“Oh Wil, what happened?” he asked, running to Wilbur’s side and rubbing circles on his back to comfort him.

“Th- the servant, they got hurt, and I was gonna g- go get help, but then -n they yelled at me, and I couldn’t- I couldn’t- I- I c- could-“ Wilbur cut himself off, devolving into a fit of coughing. Tommy hummed softly.

“I’ll try and sort out the problem with the servants as soon as I can. I’ve just been preoccupied with you lately, so I haven’t been able to make sure they were in order. I’m really sorry, Wil. But if it makes you feel any better, there’s only two minutes left until the muffins come out!” Wilbur nodded weakly, sniffling.

“W- was it magic?” he asked. Tommy raised an eyebrow. “When the servant… yelled at me. I couldn’t, can’t move. Was it magic?” Tommy processed what Wilbur was saying and then barked out a laugh.

“No, no, servants can’t use magic. It’s just obedience.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Can you stand?”

“Am I allowed to?” Tommy nodded and Wilbur stood up on shaky legs like a fawn learning to walk for the first time. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Wilbur, you don’t need to apologize,” Tommy reminded him lightly.

“I know,” Wilbur replied sadly.

“Don’t be sad, not while we’re about to have our muffins! They have chocolate, Wil. Chocolate!” Tommy used his sleeve to tenderly wipe Wilbur’s tears off of his cheek. “They might be ready if you wanna test them.” Wilbur nodded. Tommy grabbed a pair of oven mitts, put them on, and took the muffins out of the oven. He picked up a toothpick and handed it to Wilbur.

“You stick it in one of the muffins, and if it comes out clean, it’s ready.” Wilbur stuck the toothpick into one of the biggest muffins and slowly pulled it back out. There wasn’t any batter on it, just a little bit of chocolate.

“Is it good?” he asked.

“Yeah! Oh, these look fucking amazing!” Tommy exclaimed. “Wanna taste one?”

“Oh, but, um… wouldn’t they be hot?” Tommy just stared at him, his face morphing into an expression that Wilbur couldn’t read. “M- maybe we could bring them somewhere and eat them there.” Tommy wouldn’t be mad that he said that, right? Wilbur was allowed to make suggestions and to want things.

“Okay!” Tommy chirped, and Wilbur smiled. Tommy took his wrist in one hand and grabbed the pan of muffins in the other. Without saying anything, he brought Wilbur back to his room. Tommy carefully pulled Wilbur onto the ground and plopped down next to him.

“Want to eat the first one?” Tommy offered, holding out a muffin to Wilbur. Wilbur nervously took it like how a scared street cat would take a treat extended out to him and unwrapped it. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth and Tommy laughed.

“How is it?” Tommy asked through the laughter.

“Ish good,” Wilbur mumbled with his mouth full. Tommy took that as a cue to eat an entire muffin himself. As the pair ate, it was completely silent, and it gave Wilbur some time to think.

And it reminded him of something that he wanted to ask (again?).

He swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth.

“Tommy? Um… can you… please…” Wilbur started, trailing off now that he was unsure how his question would be received.

“What’s up?”

“Can you please tell me a little bit more about- about me? And you? Us? Our lives? Anything? Maybe I’ll remember more.”

Tommy sighed. “There really isn’t much more you need to know, king. You know we’re brothers. I’m sure your memories of us will come back over time.”

“What about your life? I- Tommy, I trust you completely, and I do love you, I promise! But I don’t…” Wilbur cut himself off. Why did he need to know everything about Tommy? He was like, interrogating  Tommy or something! What’s wrong with him? “I’m sorry,” Wilbur blurted. Tommy pressed his lips together.

“You’ll remember soon. Just be patient.” Tommy sounded almost mad, so Wilbur just averted his gaze to his feet and shrunk in on himself. He could be good. He’d show Tommy that!

But on the other hand… he really wanted to know more about everything. There was something going on that Wilbur was in the dark about. Something in his past was bugging him, and he couldn’t remember it. (Maybe Tommy didn’t know either? Maybe if Wilbur remembered, he could tell Tommy about what was wrong, and everything would be better.)

So that’s why Wilbur didn’t tell Tommy about the muffin wrapper stuck to his shoe when Tommy stood up. He watched as Tommy got up, left the room, and saw the wrapper get stuck on the door. Tommy left, but the door didn’t lock behind him. The wrapper kept it from actually clicking shut. It bounced back open, barely noticeable but not closed.

Wilbur could leave the room.

Did he want to? Last time he did this, everything felt wrong and bad and scary. He just wanted to be safe with Tommy (he wanted more than that).

Wilbur had to know more. He needed to know.

He took a deep breath. He decided that he would plan first. What did he want? Where was he going? Why? If he changed his mind during the process, so be it. If Tommy came back, it was a sign that Wilbur was being bad (don’t be bad, behave, obey) and that he should stop.

So. Wilbur wanted to learn more about himself and his memory. Or even anything! Anyone, anyone that would tell him something. He had a gaping hole in his brain that he desperately wanted to fill with memories.

Maybe he could… talk to Quackity? Quackity was scary, and Tommy didn’t like him (so Wilbur didn’t like him either). But Quackity knew Wilbur somehow.

Wilbur had to prepare if he was going to see Quackity. He didn’t want to be wearing clothes that Tommy had picked out for him, lest Quackity laugh at him again. His laugh made Wilbur feel… insecure? Wrong?

He couldn’t put his finger on what. But that was stupid and didn’t matter.

Wilbur walked over to the closet in the room and gasped at the vast array of clothing in every color. He grabbed the closest sweater to him, a very soft blue one, and put it on.

Okay. What else?

“Quackity, tell me about myself,” he practiced quietly. No, that was too demanding. Wilbur couldn’t forget himself, his place , just because he was excited. “Can you please help me with my memory?” No, that sounded desperate. Wilbur didn’t deserve to know any of this stuff, and he didn’t want to guilt trip some guy who he didn’t even remember. “Tommy won’t t-…” Wilbur could not bring Tommy into this. Tommy wasn’t in the wrong. It wasn’t Tommy’s fault that Wilbur didn’t know anything (and couldn’t do anything right and was so desperate and clingy and-)

Wilbur didn’t want to be alone. He hated being alone. He wanted Tommy back, he needed Tommy back, he couldn’t be alone! He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep, shuttering breath.

“Hi Quackity. I don’t mean to sound…” What didn’t Wilbur want to sound like? “I don’t know who I am,” he whispered, barely audible. That just sounded depressing. (It was true, though.) “Quackity, do I deserve this? What did I do?”

This just wasn’t working. Wilbur supposed he could just make it up on the spot.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Wilbur stepped out of his room and into the hallway. He walked down the halls with haste, surprised that he actually remembered how to get to where he’d found Quackity last time.

He entered the cell hallway.

“Oh! Hello again, Wilbur!” Quackity greeted, sounding far more cheerful than last time.

“Hi Q- Quackity. Or sir? Um, what should…” Quackity laughed lightheartedly.

“Quackity. Or just Q.”

“Q,” Wilbur repeated airily.

“Good! That’s good! So, what brings you back?”

Wilbur froze. Now that he was here, asking about himself just didn’t seem right. He didn’t want to know. He wasn’t supposed to. Tommy said he shouldn’t. There had to be a reason for it.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Wilbur admitted weakly. “I dunno. It’s silly. I’m sorry.”

“What did he do to you,” Quackity muttered under his breath, and Wilbur might not have heard it at all.

“I can leave,” Wilbur said. “I- I shouldn’t be here, I’m not supposed to leave my ro-“

“No! Wait, Wilbur, stay here.” (Memories of ‘ Sit! Stay- stay here ’ started to scream in his head) so Wilbur immediately collapsed onto the ground, sitting at Quackity’s feet. He stared up at him politely through the bars. Quackity seemed almost confused for a second (it was weird, Wilbur was just being good) but then sat down so that he’d be on the same level as Wilbur.

“I’d like to apologize for our previous encounter,” Quackity continued. “I was just mad. Not at you!” he quickly added on after seeing Wilbur’s eyes go wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Wil. I promise that I’m not the bad guy here. We’re friends!”

“I don’t know if I can trust you,” Wilbur replied quietly.

“I understand. You don’t have to believe anything I say, I guess. I wouldn’t expect you to. But I can promise that I won’t lie to you, Wilbur. I know that I’m going to say things that you won’t believe, but I gain nothing from lying to you. Do you understand?” Wilbur nodded fervently, even though he wasn’t sure he did understand.

Wilbur could start off small.

“Who’s George?”

“Just a friend of ours. We shared a common goal.” Quackity might’ve expected Wilbur to further inquire about what goal, but Wilbur didn’t want to push it. He accepted what he was given.

Wilbur didn’t want to ask about himself. He should just be polite.

“We’re friends?”

“Yeah, we are,” Quackity confirmed.

“Um, am I allowed t-… can you tell me a little about you? So I can- I don’t remember. Please?” Wilbur asked. Quackity laughed again. Wilbur noticed that Quackity’s laughs today weren’t scary like they were last time.

He actually sounded happy.

“Sure, man. What do you wanna know?”

Chapter Text

“Anything.” Wilbur didn’t want to be demanding. Quackity had the right to withhold any information that he wanted. Wilbur didn’t need to know anything in particular! He just wanted some memories. Anything.

Quackity didn’t respond immediately, probably lost in thought. Wilbur remained silent and patient. Hopefully Quackity would notice that he was being good and decide that he’d earned a chance to listen. Wilbur decided that he preferred listening over talking. Listening was easy. He could just respectfully listen to someone else tell him things without having to worry about doing the wrong thing. The gaping hole in his mind left him with a desire to learn more, and he thought the sound of voices, especially Tommy’s, was soothing.

“Wilbur?” Quackity asked softly. His tone sounded like one he’d use for talking to a little kid, but it wasn’t necessarily condescending.

“Yeah?” Wilbur replied (and his voice, ironically enough, sounded small).

“Are you… happy?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Tommy, I mean. Are you happy, safe? Being Tommy’s?” Wilbur nodded. “Has he hurt you? Is he manipulating you?”

“No,” Wilbur immediately replied. “Tommy is nice. He- he loves me. He’s good.”

“Do you promise? You really believe that, with your whole heart? That you’re absolutely happy with Tommy?”

“Y-yes? I promise! I do! Wh- is this a test?” Quackity opened his mouth and then closed it. Wilbur found himself flinching, anticipating a hit. (He wanted to stand up and leave. He wanted Tommy. But Quackity had told him to stay. Wilbur wasn’t sure if he could go.)

“It’s not a test. I apologize, I don’t want to scare you, Wil. Please don’t go.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I won’t,” Wilbur promised frantically.

“I mean, woah, hey, you’re allowed to leave. I’m not keeping you here. I’m the one behind bars, y’know? I just missed you, missed talking to anyone. But I won’t be mad at all if you want to go back to Tommy. Does he know you’re here?” Wilbur shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m permitted to leave my room,” Wilbur admitted. He definitely wasn’t.

“Oh, kid,” Quackity sighed.

“I’ll stay here for a little bit though,” Wilbur decided. Quackity smiled softly and reached through the bars to ruffle Wilbur’s hair. Wilbur leaned into the touch.

“I’ll just tell you a happy story, then. Would you like that?”

“Yes please,” Wilbur answered politely.

“Well… I used to live in a small village with my two fiancés. Sapnap and Karl. Gods, they were- they were perfect. I remember vividly the day that Sapnap proposed. He said he had a surprise for us. And he took the two of us, blindfolded I might add, out into this field, and he removed the blindfolds. It was this beautiful field of flowers, every color you could imagine. And he’d set up this whole picnic with a ton of food that he bought because he was a terrible baker. I would’ve expected this from Karl, maybe, but never Sapnap. That’s what made it all more special.

“And I remember that Sapnap handed us each a glass of champagne. Or no, Karl’s was sparkling cider, because that boy cannot hold a single drop of alcohol. He’s a complete lightweight. And in each of the glasses was an engagement ring, a total cliche! Gods, the way that Karl squealed. Plus, Sapnap being a total sap, true to his name. It was the greatest thing. I still have my ring.” Quackity reached under his shirt and pulled out a ring hanging on a chain. (Wilbur recognized it somehow. And it didn’t seem like from some distant, repressed memory.) “Oh, and we would spend every second of every day together once we moved into the same house. It was like- like living in a dream.

“We would watch movies every night, and I taught them both how to cook! Because they were both hopeless without me. And I practiced playing the guitar, and I learned all of our favorite songs, and we would sing them together. I mean, we were horrible singers, but for us, it was perfect. And Karl, he knew how to knit, and he would make Sapnap and me sweaters! All the time, really, it was all we ever wore. I remember one time, Sapnap accidentally burned a hole in my favorite sweater, and we didn’t want to have to make Karl fix it, so we tried to fix it ourselves.

“We made an absolute horrible fucking mess of it. Karl had to make a whole new one from scratch because of how bad we fucked it up. And- oh! Sapnap was incredible at, like, metalworking stuff. He made our rings, he would make weapons for us! For my birthday, he made this beautiful intricate dagger for me. I never had the heart to actually use it, back then. And, let’s see. Sapnap had as much of a spice tolerance as me, pretty high. We would have spicy stuff together all the time, and Karl would try a bite and practically cry.

“And Sapnap was an absolute meathead. For any disagreement, he’d challenge us to like, a duel or some shit. Arm wrestling, that’s another big one. Although I remember that sometimes, he’d let me or Karl win. I thought it was pretty obvious when he threw, but Karl never caught on. He started like, working out so that he could beat Sapnap, but y’know. He did get stronger, though! Props to him. For me, I prefer games of chance. Gambling, if you will. I’ve only lost a game of that sort once.” Quackity sighed deeply.

“So what happened?” Wilbur asked. “T- to you guys?” Quackity hesitated.

“I don’t want to ruin your happiness. Please, don’t read into that. It wasn’t your fault or Tommy’s or anything. But I’ve had some very bad things happen to me, and I suppose I’ve done things as well. Wilbur, if you’re happy… you deserve it. You’ve earned it. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes.” No.

“Wilbur, I don’t want you to lie to me.” Wilbur immediately went to apologize, to change his answer, but the words died in his throat. Quackity gave him a small understanding smile. “You’re always welcome to come back and visit me, okay? I promise that I won’t get mad at you for anything, and I’m not gonna hurt you. If Tommy does something-“

“He won’t!” Wilbur blurted. He tensed and squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for Quackity to get mad. He shouldn’t trust Quackity. He didn’t want to like Quackity.

He wasn’t supposed to feel safe near Quackity. But Quackity didn’t hit him, he didn’t yell, and that just made Wilbur all the more confused. Quackity didn’t make sense! He was supposed to be a bad guy! He didn’t like Tommy, and so Wilbur shouldn’t like him.

“You should go back to your room now, Wilbur. I don’t want Tommy to be unhappy with you.”

“Okay,” Wilbur agreed, resigned. He supposed Quackity was right. He probably just didn’t want to have to deal with Wilbur anymore. “And… I’m allowed to visit you again?”

“Yeah! I’ll always talk to you, Wilbur. I… I think I’ll be here for a while. I can try and think of some more happy stories and things to tell you.” Wilbur smiled, stood up, and subconsciously made sure that his gaze was downward.

“Thanks,” he chirped, and he ran out of the hallway before Quackity could say anything more.

Wilbur wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Quackity again, originally. Maybe Tommy would never accidentally leave the door open again! But after spending time with Tommy, multiple cycles of sleeping and waking before he left Wilbur alone again…

Tommy left and Wilbur felt an itch to get up and move around. To wander the halls and go interact with someone else.

The door was locked. Wilbur saw that one coming. But he could prepare!

So Wilbur spent the time preparing something that he could stick in the lock of the door when it opened so that it couldn’t lock. He ripped a piece of paper out of a book and rolled it up super small. His busy hands kept him from panicking about the fact that he was alone, but that didn’t last. Wilbur found himself completely overwhelmed and shaking in Tommy’s arms as soon as he was back. But when Wilbur got the chance later on, he put the paper into the door’s lock.

When Tommy went away again, Wilbur was able to have free reign of the palace. He went immediately back to the cell hallway. (It didn’t cross his mind that there might be other cells with other people. Quackity was the only one who’d ever talked to him, so he was the only one who mattered.)

“Hi Quackity!” Wilbur greeted cheerily. He realized that he’d missed Quackity. Not as much as he would miss Tommy when he was alone, but still.

“Wilbur! I-“ he laughed, “I genuinely didn’t think you were coming back.” Wilbur nodded.

“I mean, nobody should have to be alone.”

“You really are the best of us, kid.” Wilbur had a few things that he wanted to say, or ask, but he couldn’t muster the ability to try and talk. So instead, to prompt Quackity to tell another story, he sat down at his feet. Quackity rolled his eyes and sat down as well. “Wilbur, would you like to talk about something other than my life?” Wilbur cocked his head to the side. “What do you remember about yourself?” Wilbur’s eyes went wide. Did Quackity know about the memories that keep resurfacing?

“I- I don’t- nothing! I promise, I don’t remember anything! N- nothing bad, I don’t, I don’t, p-“

“Wilbur, come on. We used to spend every day together! What changed? I should be your favorite!”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Wilbur mumbled, his voice saturated with terror and shaky from sobbing. He pressed himself further into the corner, curling up. “You can’t-“

“WHY NOT? Wilbur, dammit! WHY WON’T YOU JUST-“

Wilbur gasped for breath, trembling. He wasn’t- he didn’t- nothing made sense!

“Wil, Wilbur, can you hear me? Can you try and focus on my voice?” Wilbur wasn’t sure who was talking. Was it Tommy? Quackity? And who was speaking in his memory? He was confused, or maybe he was just plain stupid- “Try and take deep breaths, okay? You’re okay, you’re safe! I’m not mad, you don’t need to remember anything.”

Wilbur didn’t want to remember, he hated his memory. He thought that he wanted to remember, but he didn’t. His memories were bad, and he was happy now! He loved Tommy and he was pretty sure he liked Quackity too, and everything was okay. Remembering was hard and bad and he hated it and he hated how stupid his brain was.

(There was a hand in his hair. He cried softly, eyes blurry and mind foggy.)

“I don’t remember anything, I don’t! I don’t remember, please, I don’t remember. I don’t, I don’t, I don’t remember! I don’t remember, I don’t remember!” Wilbur kept repeating like a broken record, his voice catching on sobs and hiccups. “I don’t remember, I don’t remember, please, I don’t remember!” Why couldn’t he stop saying it? What was wrong with him?

“Shh, it’s alright. You don’t need to remember.”

”I don’t remember,” he cried quietly.

”It’s okay, Wilbur.”

“Mm mm,” Wilbur grunted in vehement disagreement. “‘s not okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“…Q?”

“Yeah, Wil, it’s me. Are you… what happened?” Wilbur paused. If he told Quackity… no. He couldn’t tell Quackity. Wilbur was supposed to be happy. That’s why Quackity was still talking to him! If Wilbur was happy, Quackity would tell him stories, and he would still be able to stay with Tommy forever.

“I’m happy,” Wilbur said. “Am I good?”

“Uh… yeah. You’re good, buddy.” Wilbur breathed a sigh of relief. “I… what do you want me to do? How can I help you?” Wilbur didn’t reply to that. He didn’t need help.

(He tried to ignore the pitiful ache in his chest. The longing for something that he couldn’t pinpoint. He felt desperately sad and on the edge of more tears, but he didn’t know why.)

“Can you please tell me a story?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

Quackity sighed. “Sure.”

He told Wilbur a story that apparently, Wilbur had told to  him some time ago. It was about a princess who was locked in a tower, separated from the world around her. Her only company was her mother’s visits, but she longed to leave her tower and see the outside world.

“Why does she wanna leave?” Wilbur questioned. “And- and why is she named after lettuce?” Quackity shrugged.

“You tell me, man.”

One day, a prince happened upon the tower and heard the princess.

“This is where the story can go a couple of different ways,” Quackity mentioned. “You said that the story had a few different versions. In one, the princess and prince leave the tower together, fall in love, and the mother’s manipulation is exposed. It’s revealed that she isn’t the real mother of the princess at all, she’s killed, and the princess finds her real home and lives happily ever after. Also, her hair was magic. That was pretty cool.

“In another version, the mother finds out about the prince frequently visiting the tower, and so she tricks the prince by dangling down the princess’ hair and when the prince reaches the top, sending him falling down into a patch of brambles and thorns. The prince was permanently blinded and wandered alone through the woods, unseeing, as the princess was left to suffer under the wrath of her furious mother. And I think one day, he hears her singing and finds her, and her love restores his sight and they live happily ever after as well.”

“Why was the mother bad?” Wilbur asked. “Wasn’t she just trying to protect her daughter?”

“Well, the princess wasn’t her real daughter. The mother stole her, or won her in a bet or something.”

“But she still raised her and cared for her!”

“Okay, but Wilbur, you’re missing the point. She manipulated the princess. She led her to believe things that weren’t true, forced her to be dependent on her, and never allowed her to leave the tower! She lied, she controlled her! And she attempted to kill the princess’ lover in every version of the story, as far as I know. I couldn’t tell you everything, though. This is your story, Wilbur. I have completely different fairy tales where I’m from.”

“Maybe you can tell me one of your stories one day? Please?”

“Yes, but Wil, do you understand why the mother was the villain?” Wilbur didn’t. He didn’t know what the ‘manipulation’ actually entailed, but he didn’t want to annoy Quackity by asking for an explanation. He knew what the word meant, but really, the mother was just caring for her daughter!

(The longing within him grew heavier. He decided that he missed Tommy. Tommy did say that he had separation anxiety! He probably just needed his brother.)

“I’m sorry, I’m going to go now.”

“Wait, Wilbur-“ Wilbur slapped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes before Quackity could try and command him to do anything. He was not going to stay here. He needed Tommy. Quackity was… confusing. Tommy was too, he supposed, but everything confused Wilbur. He had to go back to his room.

Wilbur got up and ran back to his room. And well, this started to become his routine! He would spend as much time as he could with Tommy, and then when Tommy left, Wilbur would visit Quackity. He wasn’t sure if what he was doing was morally correct.

On one hand, Wilbur was disobeying Tommy. He loved Tommy! He shouldn’t be…

On the other hand, Quackity didn’t deserve to be alone. He didn’t have anyone else! Wilbur didn’t want him to be sad or angry. Except sometimes he still was, and it made Wilbur feel desperately scared and small. Quackity would interrogate Wilbur, press him to answer questions about Tommy or his memory. Once he drove Wilbur to tears, he’d stop and apologize.

That didn’t happen a lot. Usually, Quackity was nice. Irregardless, Wilbur still dreaded the moments where Tommy would leave him.

And Wilbur was able to keep up that routine for a while.

Chapter Text

Until.

“I have something for you, Wilbur. Techni-cally, it’s a present, but it’s also because I have something important to do.” Wilbur looked up from the book he was reading in respectful acknowledgment. (It was some fantasy book about magic and fae. Wilbur really liked it.)

“Thank you!” Wilbur chirped. He was excited! And Quackity had been helping him work on being better at talking. Sure, he pushed Wilbur a lot, but when Wilbur held up his end of Tommy’s conversations, it really made Tommy happy. So it was worth it.

Quackity also told Wilbur a lot of cool stories. Some of them, he said they were true, but they had magic and stuff, so there was no way. There was one story (or rather, a couple of stories in the same vein) that really stuck with Wilbur, though. It gave him a weird feeling. Something about two twins, orphaned and homeless in the city, getting into various adventures.

(Quackity laughed at him for knowing what a city was but not believing in magic. That was stupid. Some things are real, some aren’t!)

And now, Tommy had a present.

“You’re gonna be able to leave the palace today,” Tommy said. “I got a servant who’s gonna take you all around and make sure you’re safe. They’re super nice, you’re gonna love them!” Wilbur gasped and his face lit up.

“Really?” he exclaimed.

“Yeah! I wish I could come with you, but I have something really important to do. Okay, enough about that. This is a big day for you, Wil! I bet you’ll have a ton of memories come back and stuff, and you’ll have a great day with Ran, and so you can tell me all about it when you get back. I have to go in a minute, so…” Tommy opened the door, and someone was standing right behind it. They were really tall, with bicolored hair and heterochromatic eyes, and were wearing the same shirt that the other servants all had.

They gave Wilbur a shy wave and a small smile. “Hi, Wil. Nice to meet you.” Wilbur waved back.

“Okay, Wilbur, I hope your day out is fun!” Tommy squeezed him in a tight hug. “Bye!” He pushed past the servant and left. Wilbur tensed, not sure what to expect from this new person. The last servant that he interacted with…

It didn’t go well. He didn’t wanna relive it.

“I’m Ranboo.” Wilbur pulled his legs up to his chest. “Do you wanna leave your room?”

“Maybe in a little bit,” Wilbur mumbled. He couldn’t even muster the courage to speak at a full volume! He needed to get over himself, seriously. Surely, not all of the servants were gonna be like that scary one.

Ranboo’s gaze softened and they gave Wilbur an understanding look. Slowly, as if trying not to scare Wilbur, they approached him and sat down near him. Not close enough to be threatening, but still on the same bed. On same level as Wilbur - they weren’t putting themself above Wilbur.

“I think I know why you’re scared of me. I get it, people tell me all the time, I look scary, but-“

“No!” Wilbur interrupted. He did not want to offend them. “No, you don’t look scary. I really really like your hair, and I think it looks really cool, and you’re pretty, and-“ he gasped nervously, “I promise, you’re not scary at all.” Ranboo cocked their head to the side. “I… one of the other servants. They- when I tried to leave the kitchen, they p- pinned me to the ground, and I couldn’t move! And- are you gonna…?”

Ranboo’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, oh man, no, I’m not one of those servants. I’m really sorry, I should’ve known. You’re safe with me, remember? It’s my job to make sure that kind of thing doesn’t happen to you.”

“Really?” Wilbur asked with evident hope saturated in his voice.

“Really,” Ranboo confirmed.

“So… you work for Tommy?” Wilbur asked. Ranboo nodded. “Aren’t you kinda young to be a servant?”

“Wha- h- kinda young?” Ranboo sputtered. “I’m older than you, man!” Now it was Wilbur’s turn to cock his head to the side.

“You’re a teenager!” Wilbur exclaimed. Ranboo stared at him with disbelief.

“…Do you not know how old you are?”

“Uh…” Come to think of it… what did Wilbur even look like? His room didn’t have a mirror. Ranboo stared at him, their mouth agape. “I d- don’t know anything,” he forced out under his breath. “Nothing about me. I don’t even know what color my hair is,” he admitted sadly. Ranboo sighed.

“Come on, we’ll find you a mirror,” they said, standing up. They took Wilbur’s hand and led him out of his room down a couple of halls. Then they opened one of the doors, revealing a whole room with wall to wall mirrors. In the reflective glass, Wilbur saw Ranboo standing next to a sickly looking child with messy brown hair and similarly colored eyes. He averted his eyes. No wonder he felt so small around other people.

“That’s me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I thought…”

“You’re sixteen or so, I think. Not a little kid!”

“I guess. H- how old are you? How old is Tommy?” (Tommy seemed around what Wilbur’s apparent age was.)

“Doesn’t matter,” Ranboo replied, and Wilbur instantly wanted to shrivel up and hide. Their tone wasn’t even scary, but Wilbur knew when he’d done something wrong. But then they looked at him, and it was almost as if they noticed that Wilbur’s mind was plagued with fear. Ranboo reached for his hand again. “Are you ready to go outside?” Wilbur nodded weakly.

As soon as Ranboo took him outside, though, all of the scary thoughts dissolved. It looked just like how he remembered it from when Tommy took him outside!

“Do you wanna swim?” Ranboo asked.

“Yes please!” Wilbur answered giddily. Ranboo took him on a short walk to a small lake beach and then grabbed his wrist before letting him run off.

“You can’t just go on your own, Wil. Do you mind if I swim with you?”

“Of course you can!” Wilbur beamed. “I’ll race you!” He wriggled his way out of their grasp and sprinted towards the water. He catapulted himself in with a splash, but when he came up out of the water, Ranboo was already treading at the center of the lake! “H- how did you get there?”

“Teleported.”

“Ha ha,” Wilbur laughed sarcastically. “Fine, don’t tell me. Do you wanna do a game?”

‘A game’ consisted of splash wars, underwater flip competitions, and a one sided chicken fight where Wilbur got on Ranboo’s shoulders and then realized no one else was there. But then, “Wilbur, your teeth are chattering. It’s time to get out of the water.”

“I don’t wanna,” Wilbur pouted, like a petulant child. (For some reason, he was weirdly comfortable with Ranboo. They didn’t make him afraid at all. Wilbur felt safe.)

“Welp, you’ve forced my hand.” Ranboo scooped him up bridal style and carried him, squirming and thrashing, out of the lake.

“RAN!” Wilbur shouted, but he wasn’t mad at all. He was actually overcome with giggling. “Let me go! P-“

“-UT ME DOWN! PLEASE- UGH!” Wilbur struggled and fought, clawing at the person grabbing him, at their face and hands and huge arms, but it didn’t do any good. The harder he kicked, the tighter they restrained him. “STOP!” Tears were streaming down his face as he thrashed violently. “P-“

He heard a whack, and the person collapsed to the ground on top of Wilbur, crushing him. He clambered to escape, and then the body was rolled off of him. Wilbur stood up and saw someone holding a big stick that was covered in blood. Tears of fear turned into ones of relief as he threw himself into their arms.

“Te-“

“Wil? Are you okay?”

Wilbur blinked. “Oh. Y- yeah. Sorry. I zoned out.”

“Oo-okay. I, um, put a towel on you.” Wilbur noticed that, yes, there was a soft green towel resting on his shoulders, and he pulled it tighter around himself.

“Ranboo? Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” Ranboo replied kindly, sitting down next to him on the ground.

“I don’t really remember anything at all. Except… I’ve been getting these thoughts, and I don’t know if they actually happened or not. It’s always me scared, or crying, or hurt. And it’s terrifying, and I don’t know if it’s real.” Ranboo hummed.

“Maybe you should tell Tommy.”

“What if Tommy gets mad?”

“He wouldn’t,” Ranboo immediately answered. “He cares about you. He wants you to be safe and happy.” Wilbur nodded, ignoring the fact that his eyes were watering. He willed the tears back. “Okay, hold on. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

Wilbur obediently listened, not moving at all as Ranboo walked away. He hummed softly to himself so that he wouldn’t get nervous, but Ranboo returned so quickly that he didn’t even have time to panic.

“I brought flowers!” they chirped. “So we can make flower crowns!”

“But I don’t know how,” Wilbur worried.

“I’ll show you. Here, take some flowers.” They thrust a small bouquet of flowers into his hands and started to slowly intertwine their flowers with each other. Wilbur watched them and then mimicked the actions. His were sloppier than Ranboo’s, but the crowns still stayed together! He picked his best one and placed it on Ranboo’s head.

“Now you’re a king!”

“Aww, thanks! Do you want one of mine?”

“Oh- you don’t have to- I don’t des-“ Ranboo cut him off by putting an intricate crown of purple and white onto his fluffy hair.

“There. Wanna pick one for Tommy too?” Wilbur nodded vehemently and picked up the one that he made with yellow and red just for Tommy. And then his eyes lingered on a blue on that Ranboo made. Quackity said he liked blue. Would he like the flower crown?

But… Wilbur wasn’t allowed to be friends with Quackity. Maybe Ranboo would take him to see him anyway?

He considered asking, but decided against it. (Wilbur might like Ranboo more than Quackity anyway. Ranboo was nicer.)

No, actually, that was mean. Bad. He shouldn’t pick favorites. Although wait, yes he should, because Tommy was his favorite!

“Is there anything else you want to do, Wil? You can go anywhere! This is your chance to explore!”

(Where was this palace anyway? Did it rule over a kingdom or something?)

“Uh, you pick. I wanna do something fun.”

“Well… Tommy gave me a list of things that you might want to do. How about the library?”

“But I have books in my room.”

“Yeah, but the library has a lot more. Ones that he didn’t pick out especially for you.” Oh. What was that one book that Wilbur tried to read before Tommy took it?

“The Art of War?” Wilbur wondered aloud. Ranboo furrowed a brow.

“Maybe.”

So Ranboo brought him back inside the palace, and he was grateful that they let him keep his flower crown. His hair was still slightly damp, but he wasn’t cold anymore at least! Ranboo took him to the library, which was absolutely gigantic. There were ladders and curving staircases just to reach the higher shelves, and what had to be thousands of books everywhere he looked. (It was just like the library from the story Quackity told him, where the girl fell in love with a magic furry!)

“Tommy told me that there’s a few sections we’re not allowed in, but I don’t think you’d want to read those books anyway.”

“Okay. Can you help me find The Art of War? I- I remember it, I think it would help my memory.”

“I’ll check, you go sit down over there.” Ranboo pointed to a corner of the library that had a few comfy chairs, but also something much better. A window! Wilbur nodded and ran over, jumping onto the windowsill and staring out it. He could see a garden! And in it, there were servants at work! That was pretty cool.

One of them looked up at him, and he waved. But sadly, they didn’t wave back. Wilbur’s face fell as they just stared. He tried to see if he could open the window, but it didn’t have a latch. Hmm. Maybe the servant just didn’t have good enough eyesight to see him clearly.

“Wi-“ Wilbur flinched and jumped, almost falling onto the ground. Ranboo caught him in midair, and he immediately relaxed when he saw their face. “Sorry.” They put him back on the windowsill and picked up the books that they’d dropped while catching him. “They don’t have The Art of War. But I think you might like this.” They handed him one of the books, simply titled Myths in fancy script.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully.

“You’re welcome! So, I know I’m not supposed to leave you, but you haven’t eaten today, so I’m going to go get food. Will you please stay in this spot? I promise it’s safe right here, just don’t wander off.” Wilbur nodded.

“I’ll be good,” he reassured. Ranboo gave him a proud smile and left. Okay. So. The book. He should probably read it. He flipped the book open to the table of contents and was confused to see a page that was just covered in numbers. “That’s weird,” he thought out loud. He turned the page, but strangely, the next one was blank? And the next, and the next, and the next-

He opened and shut the book to random pages, but it was entirely blank. Why did Ranboo give him this? It didn’t make sense? Was it a test? To see what he would do when bored and scared; to see if he would misbehave and leave the corner?

He went back to the table of contents (and his thumb brushed one of the numbers.) He prepared to throw the book to the ground in frustration, when…

He saw that the next page had writing on it. That… that was confusing. Wilbur flipped to that page and started to read.

“Once,” there was a king, who ruled over an entire kingdom. He was a benevolent ruler, and very strong, despite his youth. He was barely into adulthood when his father died and he ascended to the throne. But he was alone. He hosted a ball, inviting all of the influential nobility from the kingdom, but none of the suitors interested him. They were all after power, and quite frankly, had no personalities.

The young king despaired. He would be alone forever! And so, to clear his head, he dismissed his guards for an hour and went for a walk alone to clear his head. His walk brought him on a path that he hadn’t seen before, and soon, he found himself in a small village. The king’s countenance quickly brightened, for he rarely got to interact with his subjects in a manner such as this!

He merrily stepped into the village center and looked around. But his elegant attire attracted unwanted attention. The king was not prepared to resist when a group of thugs tackled him to the ground and attempted to steal his jewelry. And then, before they could get away, someone emerged from the shadows and grabbed the gems back from the criminals. They ran, as thugs do when defeated, and the king prepared himself to thank the great knight who must have just saved him.

He was surprised to see a boy about his same age, sheepishly smiling back at him. He handed the king back his jewelry and turned to leave, but the king stopped him.

“Wait,” the king called out. “I must repay you somehow. Would you like to come to my castle with me?”

The boy agreed. But unbeknownst to the king and his (possible partner) savior, the boy’s family had already betrothed him to the daughter of an evil wizard, whos dark magic had plagued the town for years, in order to get him to leave. The boy’s mother intended the sacrifice of her son to be enough to save her people, and she was planning on telling him the very next day.

But the king brought the boy back to his castle, and the wizard watched angrily as the two began to fall in love.

That boy was promised to him , for his daughter. He owned the boy, and everything that came with him.

But the wizard was intelligent as he was evil, and more power-hungry than anything else. So he devised a plan. That night, as the king slept, he bestowed upon him a dream in which the king married the boy. The king was stirred to action by this dream and as soon as he awoke, he proposed to the boy, who ecstatically agreed. On the day of their wedding, as the couple said their vows and came together in a blissful union, the wizard burst into the room and announced himself.

In a dramatic monologue to end all dramatic monologues, the wizard explained his plan. If the king were to die, the boy would inherit the throne. Then he would marry the wizard’s daughter, as he was obligated to do, and the wizard would have control over the kingdom through his daughter and son in law. Before any of the guards could attack the wizard, he summoned up a great burst of magic and killed the king. The spirit of the king rose up into the sky and became one with the sun.

The boy despaired, in tears as he was forcibly married to the wizard’s daughter. The daughter didn’t want to marry him either. She was kind and good, but she loved her father and aspired to help him in all his endeavors.

A darkness fell upon the kingdom. The wizard waged violent wars, not caring about casualties. He just wanted territorial expansion. The boy who was now king spent his days locked in his chambers, only allowed out when the wizard needed something of him. The daughter pitied the boy, and devised a plan for the two of them to escape this life that neither of them wanted.

That night, she killed her father as he slept, slitting his throat, and then freed the boy from his room. They fled into the night, but now the kingdom was left without an heir. The many kingdoms that the wizard had declared war on heard of this and sieged the realm, slaying all of the peasants and taking the rich as prisoners and slaves. The land was ravaged and destroyed, and when the boy and the daughter found what had become of their old village, they wept. They sobbed, not moving from where they had collapsed to their knees to cry, until they passed away. From the boy’s decomposing corpse in the dirt, a flower sprouted up to gaze at the sun. His souls was intertwined with the yellow flower, and it was just as tall and beautiful as he was. The flower grew higher and higher, always facing the sun, because the boy still strived to reunite with his lover. This is why sunflowers always grow towards the sun.

But the lesson is more than that. You mustn’t try to rise above your social status or change your place in life. Do not resist, and your reward will be your happiness.

The last paragraph was annotated in with messy handwriting. Wilbur closed the book. And then he opened it again.

Wilbur found that for every different number he touched on the table of contents, the book would show him a different myth or tale. There was a story about the constant battle between the moon’s evil versus the sun. One about an overzealous peasant who killed everyone who got in his way for his rise to power. One about a young demi-god who abused his powers. He read dozens. All of the stories seemed to be from different cultures or religions, and some of them were like the fantasy books Wilbur had in his room!

One of the stories had a particularly insightful message scrawled at the bottom.

“People come up with these stories to explain the unexplainable. From lack of knowledge comes belief,” Wilbur read aloud. “And some are to justify actions or caution people against them. Others are just to entertain and pacify the masses.” Huh. That was pretty interesting.

Wilbur flipped back to the table of contents and tapped another number. This book must be some really advanced technology to be able to have this sort of thing!

“A long time ago,” the nature spirits once again convened in th-

“Wilbur! Are you ready to eat?” Ranboo asked, scaring him. Wilbur slammed the book shut.

“Yes,” he quickly replied. Ranboo held up a bowl of something, grinning. They gave it to him, and he stared down at it. Soup. (Was that ambrosia in the soup? Would that even taste good?)

Still, when Ranboo gave him a spoon, he obediently ate the entire meal. As soon as he was done, they told him that it was time to go back to his room now. Wilbur dutifully followed Ranboo back into his room. He expected a wave of sadness to rush over him, but instead, he felt relieved. Wilbur jumped onto his bed and patted next to him, inviting Ranboo to join him. They happily plopped down next to him.

“So, Ranboo,” Wilbur started, conversing just like how he would with Quackity. “Can you, uh, please tell me a little about you? If you want?” Quackity always liked to talk about himself and tell stories, and Wilbur loved to listen.

“I work for Tommy.”

“And?”

“And that’s about it, Wil. I don’t really have much goin’ on.”

“You should take a day off, go to a city, get some city soup! I’m sure that’s a thing.”

“A city?”

“Pff- what is up with no one believing in cities! I know they’re a real thing! I remember them!”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Ranboo reassured him. “But I can’t l-“

The door swung open.

“Wilbur, I need you to do something for me,” Tommy said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Come here.”

Chapter Text

“Y- yeah? What is it?” Wilbur asked. He thought that he and Tommy were supposed to hang out now! But Tommy gave him a look, his instinct to appease kicked in, and he found himself standing readily at Tommy’s side.

“Ranboo, feel free to tag along,” Tommy offered. He started to walk, and Wilbur hastily followed (like a loyal dog following its owner).

“So where are we going?”

“There’s been a problem around here for quite some time, and today I was finally able to eradicate it.”

“Eradicate…” Wilbur wanted to comment on how that ‘was a big word for Tommy’, but now didn’t seem like the time for banter and jokes. “What do you need me to do?”

“I’ll show you once we get there. While we walk, do you wanna talk about the day you had today?”

“Oh, uh, sure!” Wilbur tentatively began to explain the things that he and Ranboo did together. He remembered the flower crown that he stashed in his back pocket and gave it to Tommy, who received it with a grateful smile. And then… they were at the same door that led to the outside? Tommy twisted the doorknob and Wilbur was met with the familiar bright green of the grass yet again.

“Wilbur, would you mind being quiet for a moment?” Tommy asked just before Wilbur could resume talking.

“Sorry,” he apologized rushedly. He spun his head around to make sure Ranboo was still following them (they were always a few steps behind, though) and ran after Tommy.

A few minutes of silent walking, and then, “Wilbur, this is very important. Can you listen to me?” Wilbur nodded. “There was a threat to the established order around here, and it’s been a problem I’ve been dealing with long before you even forgot everything. But finally, finally, I can get rid of h- it, once and for all. But I want you to activate it.” Activate? What?

“Sure, Tommy!” His tone shifted to a nervous one. “Uh… what do I have to do?” Tommy sighed and grabbed his shoulders, spinning him to face a different direction.

To face…

Quackity. Bound in chains in the center of something that resembled a pentagram but was still distinctly different. And a podium of sorts.

“It won’t hurt him, Wil. You’re just removing him from this realm.”

“R- rea- what ?” Wilbur stammered.

“Wilbur,” Quackity pleaded, “don’t fucking do this, it’s not fair, tell Tommy-“

“Don’t listen to him, listen-“

“Tommy, shut up! Wilbur, look at me.” Wilbur looked. “It’s going to kill me- Tommy-“

“You will not die! It doesn’t work that way! Don’t lie to Wilbur! Wilbur, I can’t be the one- just- put your hand on the podium!” Wilbur stepped closer to it.

“WILBUR- stop moving,” Quackity ordered. Wilbur froze on instinct.

“Quackity, stop hurting Wilbur! Haven’t you hurt enough of the people you care about? You-“

“DON’T! Do not fucking say that. You don’t have the right to say that.”

“I can say what I want! Do you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Obviously not that poor child who you’re mani-“

Wilbur started to cry. Soft sniffles accompanied by fat tears rolling down his face. Tommy immediately wiped the angry expression off his face and ran to Wilbur’s side.

“Oh, Wil, I’m sorry, was the yelling too much? It’s gonna be over in a second, you just have to touch the podium. Quackity-“

“I don’t wanna hurt him,” Wilbur whimpered.

“You won’t! It won’t hurt him.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. There was a threat, Wilbur. This procedure simply gets rid of it.” Wilbur nodded and walked right up to the podium. His hand hovered over it, and he made eye contact with Quackity, who started to beg desperately.

“Wilbur, please, I don’t want- Tommy’s lying to you! You know that! Please- if you do this, you will never see me again, you will be alone. Alone! Wouldn’t you hate that? You need me, Wilbur.” Wilbur shook his head. “Yes, Wilbur, don’t disagree with me. Come on, back away, come over here and help me get out, we can try to escape again! Tommy doesn’t have to win-“

“Tommy’s nice. You’re not,” Wilbur stated defiantly, and then his eyes widened when he realized the gravity of what he just said.

“Wilbur, please.”

“I-“

“ Wilbur .”

“Wilbur. Hello.”

“Hi, Q,” Wilbur sighed listlessly. “Come in.” The door opened and Quackity walked in. Wilbur was laying on his bed, fresh tear tracks coming from empty eyes.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit. I miss Techno so much ,” he admitted, his voice catching on the last word. “And am I stupid if I say I miss Tommy too? Like… y’know.”

“No, you’re not stupid. None of this is your fault, Wil.”

“It is, though.” He couldn’t bring himself to elaborate, even though he hated… everything. Himself, his situation, the world. Well, hate was a strong word. Maybe it didn’t apply. The feelings came in rounds. There was anger, fear, sadness. Right now, Wilbur felt numb. Empty. Apathetic.

“I used to have someone too. Two someones, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Wilbur sat up on the foot of the bed. “Do tell. I’m getting punished right now, some delightful solitary confinement. I have literally forever, so talk about whatever helps, man. I’m here.”

Quackity chuckled. “Alright. But it’s not a happy story, Wilbur. I’ve told you before that I’m a horrible person.”

“And I don’t believe you! Quackity, you can’t be a horrible person. You’re the only fucking servant here who’ll even acknowledge that I exist!” Quackity rolled his eyes.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” His tone was a little too angry, a little too harsh.

Wilbur flinched. “I’m sorry,” he blurted before he could stop himself. He cringed and hit his leg. He had to stop doing that, feeling like that. Quackity opened his mouth and then closed it again, hesitating.

“You don’t need to apologize, kid,” he finally said. “Would you like to hear the story?”

“Yeah,” Wilbur answered. Quackity took a deep breath.

“I used to have two fiancés who I love more than life itself. And now I’ll never be able to truly see them again. Not really. B- back in the village that I came from, one day, there was a traveling carnival of sorts. And, hold on, let me back track. Sorry, I haven’t ever… talked about anything like this for… so many years.”

“Hey, you’re good, dude! Take your time.” Wilbur noticed that more and more, he was starting to not mind being silent if someone else was talking. That was different. He always used to be the rambling one.

“My fiancés’ names are Karl and Sapnap. They were both everything to me. They were an air type and a fire type, respectively.” Wilbur snickered.

“Like pokémon?”

“No! Fuck off, Wil, I’ve told you about the village where I came from.”

“Yeah yeah, everyone’s magic, I get it.”

“I’m not, Wilbur. Or, I didn’t think so. I-“

“Ooo, main character moment? Quackity thinks he doesn’t have magic, but then he’s super overpowered and saves the world?”

“If I was super overpowered, wouldn’t I have done something to get out of here by now?” he snapped. (Wilbur flinched! Fucking flinched! Again! What’s wrong with him?) He stopped himself from immediately apologizing this time. He was not going to let him win. Wilbur would not be timid.

“So we went on a date to the carnival. I don’t usually have a memory for the specific details of every day, but I’ve noticed that people always remember everything about days that changed their lives.”

Wilbur remembered meeting Tommy. That was for sure. (And despite everything, that was still one of his best memories.)

“We went from booth to booth, and my gods, we dominated. We won all the games, went on this suspicious ride thing that Karl and I got sick from, and we were pretty sure it was not legal or safe. And I’ve told you that I’m an incredible gambler, right?”

“Yeah, you said you wanted to play poker sometime! I made a deck of cards from ripping up this weird book I found on my bookshelf and a marker, and I can make poker chips, and-“

“Wil, chill, I know you have a lot of time on your hands. Sure, you can do that. Okay?”

“Okay,” Wilbur replied reluctantly.

“Do you still want to hear my story? Because this is very hard for me to relive, even if I think it’s probably good for me in the long run. I need you to be mature.”

“I’m not a child,” Wilbur grumbled. “Don’t baby me. I get it.” Quackity sighed.

“I- I know. You’ve been through some shit. I’m just irritable today. I apologize.” Wilbur didn’t say anything, and Quackity took that as his cue to continue. “So, Sapnap and Karl went to go grab food for us, and I was gonna find us somewhere to sit and eat. Our village was pretty small, but I still wanted to be away from everyone else, so I wandered away from the main area and like, into a field. And there was a man there, standing behind a table.

“I walked over to him and he held up a deck of cards and asked if I wanted to play something. I agreed, of course, why wouldn’t I? Before that day, I’d never lost a game of cards in my life. Any game, even games of chance! He said I could pick the game, and if I won, he’d give me ten bucks. We played gin rummy, I won, and he wanted to play again, with the stakes times ten. And I’ll summarize the rest for ya.

“We kept playing different games. I kept winning. The stakes would raise. I didn’t know it at the time, but there was something in the air. Magic. I couldn’t‘ve backed out then if I wanted to. But I didn’t. And looking back, doesn’t it all seem silly? Strange? But I used to be so, so naïve. And then we had a ton of money on the line, and… and I lost. We were all in, and everything I had made, gone. So I proposed we play again. Which meant he could chose what the bet was. And he said that the winner gets the other person. Which, funny. It sounded funny.

“And so I asked him if he meant, like, the deed to the other person? Or serfdom or something weird? Because where I come from, we had serfs, just not in my village.” Wilbur snorted.

“Like, medival feudalism? Where do you come from?”

“It doesn’t matter. I thought the guy was being strange, but I… long story short, I lost. And he tricked me. He cheated. And then chains appeared on my arms, weighing me down! He moved to take me away, and in a moment of weakness, I pleaded. ‘Please, anything but this, anyone but me!’ Even though I didn’t know what my fate was to be. And he said there was another way. So I agreed. But… I had to give them in my place.

“Unknowingly, I had condemned Karl and Sapnap to an eternity of mindless, controlled servantry here. I signed the contract. I didn’t read it. Until after my name was written in ink, condemning them. He tricked me. And so I begged him not to take them away from me! So… he didn’t. He said I could spend a dozen centuries by their sides.”

Wilbur didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, weakly.

“It’s almost been that long, now. Constantly, I have to walk these halls and see their blank faces, no thoughts, life, or recognition in their eyes. This is my punishment. And I know that one day, the contract will be up, and I will no longer be able to stay here. I will be free, for better or for worse, and for my fiancés? The gods only know. But I am not naïve anymore. I don’t believe that they will be allowed to go home. Not like my home exists anymore, as far as I know.”

Quackity had been here for a dozen centuries? He looked like he was in his twenties! Well, maybe he was exaggerating.

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur repeated.

“It’s… it’s fine. I’m fine here, anyways. I have no way of leaving, and nothing to leave for. My whole life is here, no matter how bleak.”

Wilbur felt a tear prick at the corner of his eye. “You don’t know how much I relate to that.” Quackity gave him a sad smile and left. He left! Without saying goodbye!

Wilbur groaned. Back to his books, he supposed.

“ Tommy,” Wilbur breathed, shaking. “I-“

“You remember, don’t you? You know what Tommy fucking did to m-“

“-t for you! Do you like it?” Wilbur didn’t respond. “Aw, come on. You can’t hold a grudge forever.”

“Quackity, stop,” Ranboo interrupted. Everyone immediately went silent and turned to them. “Your contract is complete. You’re the one who agreed to these terms. No one forced you to sign. Don’t scare Wilbur. He deserves better than this.” They walked over to Wilbur and put a hand in his hair (just like Tommy did sometimes!) “You can touch the podium, Wil. It’s safe. Do you trust me?”

Oh. Wilbur trusted Ranboo. He trusted Tommy. He already knew that both of them were kinder than Quackity. So…

“Wilbur, you’re like a brother to me,” Tommy mused. Wilbur couldn’t repress the smile that grew on his face.

“Don’t say that, I will cry.”

“No, it’s true! We’re like brothers, Wilbur!” Tommy exclaimed. Wilbur reached out to ruffle his hair, and when he booped Tommy on the nose, Tommy squawked in indignation.

“I suppose we are.” Wilbur didn’t miss the huge beaming grin on Tommy’s face.

Wilbur put his hand down on the podium.

And he blacked out, crumpling to the ground.

Chapter Text

There’s a numb empty feeling of resigned acceptance when you know something had to be done, but there’s regret regardless.

Wilbur sat up in his bed to find Tommy sitting beside him, face contorted with worry. Without thinking about how maybe, Tommy was wrong, or maybe Tommy was mad, Wilbur threw himself into his brother’s arms.

He didn’t want his memories back. There was, apparently, a lot of bad things for him to uncover. And it was too much.

So many horrible things plagued the darkness of the back of his mind, but it all culminated in one feeling of constant unease and sadness. Wilbur didn’t want to feel it. He hated it. Emotional pain to the point of physical discomfort was not something he enjoyed, to say the least.

He didn’t understand what really happened when he put his hand on that podium. But it was for the best, he supposed. Tommy was definitely hiding something from him. Wilbur knew this now. But was that so bad? Tommy obviously still loved him. Wilbur just wanted someone to love him. Anyone. It didn’t matter if that love had conditions.

Tommy rubbed circles onto his back.

“I’m sorry, Wilbur,” he whispered. “I didn’t- everything aside, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I promise, you’re my everything. Please don’t hate me.”

“I can’t. I can’t hate you. I don’t. I never will, Toms.”

Tommy looked at him with wide innocent eyes. For once, Wilbur felt like he was the one in control, like he was the protector. All of a sudden, Tommy felt fragile in his arms.

“Really?” Wilbur nodded. “I- I…”

“It’s okay,” Wilbur soothed.

“I don’t wanna be alone,” Tommy cried softly.

“You’re not. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Tommy echoed distantly. “You’ll always be here.” Tommy sniffled and buried his face into Wilbur’s shirt, who wrapped his arms around his head protectively.

“What are you?”

The being opened its mouth to speak, but could only make a small animalistic squeak. The larger blonde entity towering over it as it trembled on the ground began to laugh.

“This? This is what the universe sends me?” it- he scoffed. “Pathetic.” He kicked it swiftly with his boot and it curled in tighter on itself. “Servant? Can you dispose of it like the others? Hopefully that’ll send the universe a message that I don’t need any help.” He sighed again, running his fingers on his temple. The being whimpered quietly, eyes wide. (It was already aware of its place.)

The creature that he had called Servant walked over to it with remorseful eyes and scooped it up. It couldn’t hold back a little terrified noise as Servant stared at it.

“Go on now,” he prompted condescendingly. Servant swiftly walked away, still tightly holding it. It squeezed its eyes shut, reaching its hands up to hide its head. Fingers intertwined in its hair, it tried to repress tears.

And then… Servant placed it down on a hard surface.

“Okay,” Servant whispered urgently, nervously. “Phil’ll probably end my existence, but I- I can’t let another innocent one of you be destroyed. You don’t deserve it. The universe sent you for a reason. So I’m gonna get you to be strong enough to prove to Phil that he should keep you, okay?”

It hesitated to move. It didn’t understand.

Servant sighed deeply. “Let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Tubbo! Do you know who you are? Or what you’re doing here?”

Tentatively, it shook its head.

“Oh, that’s okay! You don’t need to be scared. You’re safe here. Do you know what you are?”

It shook its head again. This time, Servant (Tubbo?) looked sad. It tried to verbalize an apology, but it couldn’t form the words.

“No, don’t worry. I was just hoping someone would know what you things actually were.”

Things . It looked down at its feet.

“Not to dehumanize you! Sorry, I forgot to ask! What’s your name?” It blinked in confusion.

I’m not… it wanted to say. Tubbo seemed to understand.

“I guess we have a lot to talk about. Do you wanna come pick out a name?”

It paused, staring deep into Tubbo’s eyes, which showed no malice towards it. So it nodded slightly.

Tubbo taught it a lot of things. For one, that he didn’t have to refer to himself as an ‘it’ if he didn’t want to. He had free will. He wasn’t lesser than anyone, certainly not than Tubbo.

He picked himself a name. Tommy.

And Tubbo taught him about his role in this universe.

“I’m not sure what you are. But I know you’re… what Phil is. The closest thing to what I grew up learning about is that he’s some kind of deity. He has complete control over the whole universe, I think. But the problem with the universe is that it constantly expands. So it sent you, Tommy. And a ton of what you are before, well, you. Phil just doesn’t wanna share power. But I know he’s getting weaker. I- I gained back consciousness a while ago. Something happened… I think it’s because he’s weaker, but now I’m me again! And I dunno how to leave, and I’ve successfully hid that I’m aware, but… that’s what I’ve figured out.

“I’m scared that if Phil refuses the universe’s help, it might deteriorate. As much as existing sucks, I still want to keep going, y’know?”

Tommy didn’t know. It- he (not it) didn’t understand anything at all.

But under Tubbo’s tutelage, he learned a lot. According to Tubbo, he was just as powerful, if not moreso, than ‘Phil’. He didn’t know who Phil was. Was Phil the terrifying entity he saw when he… was created?

But Phil hated him.

Tubbo kept Tommy in a small cell in an old abandoned part of the castle that servants rarely cleaned. Far down the hallway, there was the occasional prisoner, but the duo took precautions to never be seen. So, shakily, Tommy learned how to use his magic. And he learned how to be sentient, to think and feel.

Tubbo said that he himself was thirteen or so, and that Tommy looked about his age. Tommy didn’t know what age was or why it applied to him, but he accepted this knowledge.

Then one day, Tommy had a nightmare. It wasn’t particularly of anything, but there was an inescapable darkness there. Tommy woke up screaming, and he couldn’t stop the blast of magic from emanating out of him.

The blast notified Phil of his existence. He could feel Tommy’s magic pulsing in the air.

Phil came for Tommy. Tommy couldn’t run.

Phil grabbed it (him?) by the collar of his shirt and lifted it up into the air. Its feet dangled shakily in the air, but it knew better than to resist Phil.

“So, the servant didn’t dispose of you?” It shook its head. “And now, what? You’ve cultivated your power?” It didn’t move, keeping its face stoic, yet fearful and submissive. Where was Tubbo? Why wasn’t he here? “Huh. Well, I don’t believe it’s possible to be rid of you now. You’re too powerful. I suppose you can be useful. But you’re going to have to behave, alright? You will obey me, and you will not question me. I’m in charge, do not forget that.”

It nodded fervently. Phil let it go onto the ground again and took its hand, leading it away from the cell where Tubbo had raised it.

It never saw Tubbo again.

(Maybe forever was a word meant for memories and not people.)

Phil sat it down on the floor of his throne room and examined it. It resisted the urge to curl up or to run.

“We’re going to begin your training now.” Slowly, it began to master control over its powers by Phil’s standards. Beyond its knowledge at the time, the realm regained its stability. Phil started acting nicer towards it.

Tommy was growing on him. (And Tommy was allowed to keep his name!)

The first time that Tommy created a new world was the first time Phil ever gave him true approval.

“Great job, mate!” Phil exclaimed, ruffling his hair and then pulling him into a hug. Tommy couldn’t help but squeal in excitement.

“I did it!”

“You did! Now, with every new world we build in the universe, we have to use a little bit of our power to maintain it. With a little bit more training, you’ll be able to make a world that can sustain life!” Tommy gasped, stars in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.”

Tommy was ecstatic. He bounced around, flying throughout the palace and around the realm. (Phil didn’t allow him to leave a certain border just yet. But once he mastered all of his powers, he would be able to have a ton more responsibilities!)

After what felt like a billion more lessons (Phil would get fed up with Tommy if he failed too much, and he’d punish i- him), Phil said he was finally ready to make a world with life on it.

Tommy performed the ritual, using the full extent of his magic. When he opened his eyes, expecting Phil to be furious, he was instead greeted with the most pride in him that Phil had ever shown.

Tommy called up his vision of the new world. Lo and behold, a few small organisms were moving in a body of water. Tommy was positively giddy.

And it only got better from there. Tommy was a natural, making worlds with glorious evolution and societies. He was creating fully sentient races in no time. And then…

“All right, Tommy. You’ve mastered your control of our universe. You did well.” Tommy beamed up at Phil. “But… I don’t think you’re mature enough to learn about our realm itself.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Phil snapped. Tommy shrunk back.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologized. Phil dismissed him and he went back to his room. The door to one of his closets creaked and Tommy immediately smiled, all of his fear and dread washing away.

“Mate, Phil would end me if he knew I already figured out all of his ‘secrets of our realm’,” Tommy said, doing the last part in a posh accent that didn’t really sound like Phil. “Even if I am ‘innortal’ or whatever Phil called it.”

“Immortal,” Ranboo corrected, stepping out of the closet that they were hiding in. “And I don’t think you do have anything figured out, Toms,” They plopped down onto Tommy’s bed next to him and pulled the blanket over both of their heads.

“I figured you out, didn’t I?” Ranboo rolled their eyes.

“You didn’t ‘figure me out’,” they repeated with air quotes. Tommy squawked in indignation.

“I got you back your sentience, king! Not just anyone ca-“ Ranboo cut him off by shushing him.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But on that note, are you sure Phil doesn’t know? Because I catch him staring at me while I do my chores, no matter how neutral I try to act. I think he knows.”

“He doesn’t know. He would’ve punished me by now. Plus, if he knew I had anyone to talk to besides him?” Tommy exhaled deeply and shook his head. “Besides, we’re besties for the resties, Ran. You trust me, right?”

“I do,” Ranboo said without any doubt. “But if Phil ever tells you… anything, about here , would you…?”

“I promise I’ll tell you.” Tommy desperately wanted to know. To know what he was , what Ranboo was, what any of them were. He knew that he had great power over the universe, but not why or how! How much was Phil keeping from him?

Ranboo’s gaze softened and they smiled at Tommy.

“I made another world today,” he told them. “There’s this species that’s gonna evolve down the line called cats, which I think you’re gonna love. I invented them just for you!”

“You did not invent cats,” Ranboo retorted. “Phil’s been making worlds with cats since before you existed.”

“But- but- these cats are really big?”

“That already exists, Toms.” Tommy groaned.

“Why can’t I do any of this right?” he lamented.

“Hey, don’t be down! I mean, dude, you made some cats today. That’s a great thing. I’m sorry if I didn’t make it sound like an accomplishment. You made them for me? Well, that’s really nice. Thank you, Tommy.” They opened their arms in invitation for a hug, which Tommy accepted and embraced them.

“The cats’re gonna be black an’ white,” Tommy mumbled, his voice muffled in the fabric of Ranboo’s shirt.

“Thank you,” Ranboo responded gratefully.

Chapter Text

“Tommy, you’re squeezing me,” Wilbur confessed weakly. Tommy promptly released him and sat up.

“Sorry. So,” he reached out to fix Wilbur’s hair, “I don’t think I told you how proud I am of you. I- I didn’t mean for it to go how it did, but you were great, king.” Wilbur blushed.

“Thanks? Uh… what exactly did I do?- Am I allowed to know?” Wilbur quickly amended. Tommy hummed.

“Quackity’s just not in this realm anymore. He isn’t a servant anymore. Okay?”

“Oh, okay.” So, Wilbur supposed, magic was real. Wow! That was awesome! He couldn’t think of any other explanation for how Quackity disappeared right before he blacked out.

Well, the signs were all there. Wilbur should’ve just trusted everyone. Lesson learned. (The lesson now ingrained in his mind was that his own rational thinking was wrong if it contradicted an authority figure’s, though.) Wilbur looked back at Tommy, who was staring at him rather creepily. Almost possessively.

“Can I learn magic?” Wilbur asked, partially to snap Tommy back into the moment. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“No? It doesn’t work like that, Wil. You weren’t born with any magic.”

“Oh. But you were?”

“Yeah. You’re adopted, ‘member?” Wilbur nodded. A small part of him itched to ask about the specifics of his relationships, especially about Phil, but he decided against it. Still… it might be good to ask about the kingdom, right? If Tommy was a prince, and he had duties and such.

Wilbur opened his mouth and the words died in his throat.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked worriedly. Wilbur’s eyes widened. If Tommy knew what he was thinking about!

“Just- my memory,” Wilbur partially lied. “I feel like there’s so much I’m supposed to know about you and everything.” Good. That was good. Now Tommy would tell him what he’s allowed to know, and Wilbur wouldn’t have to fear overstepping any boundaries. (This was becoming a reoccurring theme.)

“I have some old photos of us,” Tommy mentioned. “If you want, I can give you an album to sort through while I go do some work.”

“Really? Oh, thank you!”

“You’re welcome! Ranboo, can you grab the album on that high shelf in the study? The leather bound one.” Oh, Wilbur had forgotten Ranboo was still following him everywhere. But then without addressing Wilbur again, Tommy and Ranboo left him alone in the room.

Wilbur sighed sadly. His mind couldn’t help but wander to the memories he was trying to re-forget. The weird part was how Quackity was visiting him in his room in one of them. Quackity was out of his cell? And Wilbur was friends with him? And each memory came with a sense of dread, fear, sadness, or pain. Was the old Wilbur never happy?

At least Wilbur was happier now. So if To-

Nope. Tommy didn’t take his memories. That was a stupid thought. It was wrong. It was ungrateful, insolent, and downright disgusting. (Even if he was magic?) NO! Wilbur, you fucking idiot, shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up shut UP-

He fell off his bed, bumping his head.

“Ow,” he groaned, pushing himself off the ground. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, under his bed, he saw… a small book? That was strange. Maybe-

The door clicked open and Wilbur scrambled to his feet.

“Oh, it’s just you, Ranboo,” Wilbur sighed, relived. He visibly relaxed. “Hi, how are you?”

“I have the photo album for you.” They handed it to him and turned to leave.

“Wait! D- please don’t leave. We can hang out…?” They turned around and stared at him blankly. Wilbur’s breaths started to come faster. Ranboo was judging him. He had to explain himself. Nervously and sheepishly, he added, “I don’t wanna be alone.” Did he sound depressingly weak or what?

And still, Ranboo replied, “Wilbur, I have a job to do.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Ranboo pressed their lips together and turned back towards the door. Before they left, they stopped to stare at the lock.

“Did you put this paper in here? It’s stopping the door from actually locking,” Ranboo pointed out. Wilbur froze, tensing. Ranboo stuck their fingernail into the lock and picked out the piece of paper, and then looked back up at Wilbur. “Don’t do that again.” Wilbur nodded vehemently, tears bubbling at the corners of his eyes. Ranboo stepped out of the room and the lock clicked shut.

Wilbur frowned. Now Ranboo probably hated him.

He considered going back to looking at the thing under the bed, but decided against it. Now that Quackity was gone, Wilbur had to get his shit together. No more misbehaving. Tommy trusted him! And Wilbur needed to be worthy of that trust. So he started to flip through the album Ranboo brought him.

The photos were all pretty much the same thing. Him and Tommy, together, happy. As usual. But a few of them stood out to him as peculiar.

One, a picture of him and Tommy standing in front of a huge city skyscraper. Quackity didn’t believe in cities, right? Just as much as Wilbur was a skeptic about magic. But magic was real, and as much as Wilbur forgot things, he knew cities were real.

Two, a photo where he was pretty sure a third person was just out of frame. Wilbur could only see their shoulder, donning a red puffy coat, with long pink hair hanging down. The person seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place their name.

“-bur, come on, it’s gonna be okay. Don’t cry! They’re not gonna find us here.” A much younger Wilbur wiped his tears.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” The person with pink hair (why couldn’t Wilbur remember their name? Or anything about them? This was a memory, it was supposed to come back to him) took their coat off and draped it over Wilbur. “Now go to sleep, Wil.”

Wilbur groaned. He knew that this person was important. But he couldn’t even remember their name . Ugh.

Three, a picture that showed Tommy, covered in bandaids. Well, not covered , but it was enough to make Wilbur realize that he didn’t think he’d ever seen Tommy all that injured, and he hadn’t seen Tommy bleed.

He also noted that Phil wasn’t in any of the photos. But the guy was pretty scary, so maybe they just tried to avoid him.

Other than that, nothing significant. Photos of him and Tommy, happy, together. Everywhere.

(The book under the bed felt like it was calling out to him. He ignored it.)

Wilbur started to shimmy the few photos he took out of the album back in, when he was interrupted with the door slamming open. He flinched and threw the album into the air.

“Wilb-“

“Okay, Wilbur, we’re gonna get out of here. You just have to hang on a little longer.” Wilbur nodded.

“We’ve had the gist of a plan for… probably years now,” George (George? How did he know that?) said. “But we didn’t have-“

“You. Or, well, something as convenient as you,” Quackity added.

“What do I need to do?”

“Well, that’s the thing. You’ve gotta behave, be good, whatever that bullshit is. Just act like you’re expected to in order to buy us time. Gogy’s pretty sure he found where Phil goes when he’s visiting all the different planets and stuff.”

“We don’t know how it works,” George continued, “but I have an idea.”

“There’s not a fucking chance in the nether that we’re able to leave this place, but you? You’re not bound to here at all!” Quackity exclaimed, letting a small cackle of excitement escape him. George smacked him across the back of the head.

“Then you go to my world. You wouldn’t understand this, but it’s normal where I come from to have a stasis chamber set up at all times,” George said.

“What’s that?” Wilbur asked. George and Quackity stared at him incredulously.

“You don’t-“

“It doesn’t matter,” George interrupted. “I don’t have time to explain. We have to go, like, now.”

“But when am I gonna see you guys again?” Wilbur whined.

“Don’t be needy,” Quackity berated.

“Wilbur, look at me. Listen,” George ordered. Wilbur did as he was told. “You’re gonna go through the portal, ask someone to take you to my stasis chamber, and you’ll activate it. Hopefully, I’ll be able to take Quackity with me when it activates. If I can get my hands on any sort of magic…”

“It should work,” Quackity said. “And then the three of us are safe.”

“But I don’t wanna live where George is from! N- no offense. I just wanna go home.”

“You have to be a team player, Wilbur. We’re helping you leave, but you have to help us too. There’s no way for us to get to your home.”

“Oh. Okay.” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry-

George and Quackity left. And Wilbur was alone in his room again.

“-ur! Did you like all the pictures?” Tommy asked. Wilbur blinked a couple of times, clearing his head.

“Yes,” Wilbur replied politely. Tommy grinned and ran over to him.

“So, guess what? I have good news. Absolutely huge.”

“What is it?”

“Now that we’ve fixed the security problems, the palace is safe! So you can leave your room whenever you want! And you can come with me when I’m doing work stuff, and we can hang out all day, and we don’t have to be lonely.”

Oh. Oh! “Really?” Wilbur exclaimed happily.

“Yeah! Oh- I’m so excited! I can’t wait. Oh and also, another thing, Phil wants to have a dinner with us tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to help me plan the menu. We don’t have to cook anything, Ranboo can get some servants to do it, but if you remember what foods you like, we can have that.”

Wilbur paused for a second to process all of that. Tommy talked really fast.

“Uh, we can have whatever you want. Whatever’s easy to make.”

“Hmm, well… I remember the first time you made mac and cheese for me. Do you remember that?”

“No. Sorry.”

“It’s okay! But I think we should have mac and cheese, and, and, and, and maybe…” Tommy continued rambling about all of his ideas for their meal, and Wilbur just watched. It was endearing. (Wilbur realized that he’d been so caught up in ‘being Tommy’s’ that he hadn’t thought of the reciprocal. Tommy was his . His Tommy.)

He reached out to grab Tommy and pull him into his lap. Tommy went limp and allowed himself to be moved.

“Hi Wil,” he chirped.

“Hi Toms,” Wilbur replied.

“Do you wanna have mac and cheese, or would you rather have it without the cheese, just the mac. Is that a thing, or is it just pasta? Because I feel like-“

“Tommy.” Tommy scrunched up his face and stopped talking, instead closing his eyes and relaxing.

And then another thing clicked in Wilbur’s mind. He wasn’t told to not interrupt Tommy, and he wasn’t… well, he didn’t feel scared at all. He felt fully and truly safe.

He ran a hand through Tommy’s hair. (Tommy was acting different. But Wilbur chose to brush past it.)

“I don’t wanna go to the dinner,” Tommy mumbled drowsily.

“We don’t have to.”

“No, yes, we do ,” Tommy stated with much more force (like he was trying to convince himself of it).

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Wilbur quickly amended. “Why?”

“Phil,” Tommy replied simply. Wilbur didn’t push it. “Now we have to get dressed.” Without saying anything else, he walked over to Wilbur’s closet and tossed him another one of those stupid fancy suits that he hated. This one was deep blue rather than green, but still just as extravagant and uncomfortable looking. Wilbur took the hint and quickly put it on. Turning back to his brother, he saw that the kid was already changed into a suit of his own. Tommy looked equally, if not more, uncomfortable. Wilbur did not understand why he subjected them to this sort of thing.

But there was obviously a lot that Wilbur didn’t understand.

“I’m gonna go get some servants to make food and then set the table. You can come, if you want…” Tommy obviously wanted him to come. He looked like a kicked baby (was that the expression?).

“Yeah, I’ll come.” Tommy smiled at him and extended a hand for Wilbur to take. (Holding his hand, Wilbur noticed that Tommy was trembling.) “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tommy replied emptily, staring blankly forward as they walked. Wilbur hummed, dissatisfied. But before he could try and talk to Tommy, they entered the dining room.

And Phil was already sitting at the head of the table.

Chapter Text

“Hello! Come, sit,” Phil beckoned, smiling warmly. Wilbur hesitated and looked over at Tommy for directions. Surprisingly, Tommy was nervously frozen as well. “Here, Wilbur, why don’t you sit across from me.”

The table was long and extravagant, and Phil was sitting at the far head of it. So… he wanted Wilbur at the other head? (Not Tommy?) But Wilbur knew how to take orders, and Phil was scary. So he sat down at the head of the table, and Tommy quietly took the seat next to him. Without saying anything, merely keeping a polite expression and a straight back, Wilbur stared across the extensive table at Phil.

“Before we get to why I asked you both to eat with me, how about some small talk, huh? How have you both been lately? Tommy, you’ve been so busy, and Wilbur, I haven’t truly spoken to you since, well, you forgot.” Wilbur looked at Tommy again, expecting him to say something. He didn’t. Wilbur felt pressured to answer.

“You did come and visit Tommy and I once,” he tentatively mentioned. Phil nodded.

“That I did. But I didn’t chat with you, did I? Finally, we get a chance. Isn’t this nice?”

“Yes,” Wilbur answered, keeping his tone level. He was fine! He was doing well! Look at him, so calm and polite. Wilbur was getting through this.

“I see that we don’t have any food already prepared,” Phil noticed. “That’s alright. Servant?” he called out, raising his voice. A servant who Wilbur hadn’t ever seen before quickly approached Phil’s seat. “Can you prepare something for us to eat?” The servant nodded succinctly and promptly left.

Oh. Wilbur thought that he and Tommy were supposed to make mac and cheese? Weren’t they?

“So, Wilbur, I suppose I’ll get to the point. I’m aware you’ve been recovering since the incident.  You seem to be functioning just fine. And your memories, are they coming back?”

“Um, not really. But it’s fine! Tommy’s been taking care of me, and I remember him, and…” Wilbur trailed off. Phil was staring at him, as if he was looking into his soul. Wilbur stole another nervous glance at Tommy, who was staring down at the table with a distance gaze. He reached out and gently tapped Tommy’s knee, snapping him back into awareness. Tommy gave him a grateful smile before averting his eyes back down to the tablecloth.

“Do you remember me at all?” Phil asked.

“N- no… I’m sorry. Not before when I met you recently.”

“It’s alright. But you’re faring well?” Wilbur nodded. “Do you want to recover more memories than you have? Or are you content?” What of the gaping hole in Wilbur’s mind, is what he was asking.

“I don’t want them back.” The ones he has remembered are horrifying. “I’m happy.”

“And you’re sure that your memories aren’t coming back? None of them? You don’t get little flashes of the past when you’re triggered by something? You don’t remember anything, anyone, at all, besides Tommy? It’s just Tommy?”

Wilbur’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to reply but panicked and couldn’t force out a sound. Phil knew. He knew. He knew. He knew about the memories! And he was staring at Wilbur, with that look again, it was unsettling. A chill shook Wilbur’s weak form as his hands began to tremble.

“I- I- I d-“

“If Wilbur said he doesn’t, th-“

“Quiet, Tommy, the adults are talking,” Phil snapped. Tommy immediately shut up and curled in on himself. Wilbur composed himself with a deep shuttering breath.

“I don’t remember anything concrete… but little things, I guess. Like my vocabulary, if that’s what you mean.” And certain itches that spark from an unreachable memory that begs to be unlocked.

Wilbur looked at Tommy. And back at Phil.

“Ah, well, I suppose that’s to be expected. But you’re a delightful young man.”

“Mate, did that old guy just call you a delightful young man?” Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over. “You’ve done it! You’ve won the old people! Ah, Wilbur, you sweet ol’ chap. Such a nice lad. Oh pish posh pop, what a delightful little buccaneer.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur sighed.

“What a good sa-martian you are! A sweet bo-“

“Did you just say sa-martian?”

“Yeah…?”

Wilbur barked out a laugh. “Tommy! It’s samaritan! Not like a martian!”

“But- that’s how it’s spelled!”

“No, it’s not even spelled like that! Jesus, Tommy!”

“No, surely not, you have to be wrong. I thought it was sa-martian!” Wilbur shook his head. “My life is a lie!”

“Thank you.” Phil smiled, satisfied.

“Alright. Tommy,” Phil said, turning his head over to Tommy. “I’m sorry I raised my voice at you. I just wanted the chance to speak with Wilbur. I’m sure you forgive me.” Tommy nodded warily. “Good. I want you to know, Tommy, that I am very proud of you. You’ve been doing a very good job lately. Taking care of Wilbur, doing your role around the palace, and everything beyond that. You’re very good.”

Tommy said something in response, but it was so quiet that even Wilbur next to him couldn’t hear. Still, somehow, Phil seemed to understand. He seemed pleased with whatever Tommy had said. Maybe… yeah, Wilbur was lost. Here he was, thinking that he’d gotten over feeling lost in every interaction, but now the confusion and lingering fear was back.

“So, what have you two been doing lately? Anything fun?”

Tommy was still shaking. Wilbur wanted to reach out to him, to offer some comfort, but he didn’t know how. The only thing he could think of to improve Tommy’s situation was to field Phil’s questions. He didn’t know what was going on with his brother, but they could talk later. Wilbur’s newfound protectiveness washed over him and he knew that he needed to make everything okay for Tommy.

(There was a constant buzz at the back of his mind that just said Tommy over and over. Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy Tommy)

“We… hang out in my room a lot. And we made muffins together… and we’ve gone outside, and we watch movies, or play cards, or just talking.”

“Outside? Really! Tommy, where have you taken him?” Tommy didn’t reply. “You’re allowed to speak, Tom, it’s alright.”

“We went to the courtyard,” Tommy forced out.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful! And you’ve been swimming, haven’t you, Wilbur?”

“W- yes? How-“

“I happened to look out my window to see you playing in the lake with a servant. Don’t worry, you’re allowed to swim! Anywhere Tommy’s allowed to go, you are too. Well, with his permission, of course.”

“Of course,” Wilbur agreed.

“And I take it you’re assimilating well,” Phil continued. “So, I wanted to extend an offer to you. For as long as Tommy’s been with me, I’ve been teaching him. I was wondering if you’d like to receive lessons from me as well? It’s entirely up to you and Tommy, sure. And you obviously won’t be getting the same type of tutelage as he does. But… it’s just an offer. What do you think?”

“What kinds of lessons?” Wilbur inquired softly.

“Well, m-“

“He doesn’t want them,” Tommy interrupted firmly. He immediately tensed, but Phil only raised an eyebrow. (He wouldn’t actually hurt Tommy, right? Wilbur hoped not.)

“Oh?” was all Phil said, prompting Tommy to continue. Tommy’s Adam’s apple bobbed (like he was holding back tears) but he swallowed hard and continued.

“I, um, can teach him. I think I’m ready. You’ve been, um, teaching me, for a while, and,” he swallowed again, squeezing his eyes shut in between breaths, “I know enough. You said yourself that- that- that I’ve earned a chance to have more responsibility.” Phil cocked his head to the side slightly and continued to stare at Tommy, scrutinizing him. Tommy started to squirm in his seat. “I can just- can, I can answer his questions and everything… about the realm…” Tommy trailed off, averting his gaze back to his hands (as a wave of deja vu hit Wilbur like a ton of bricks).

“I suppose you’re right, Tommy, I did say that. And Wilbur is yours, so it’s sensible.” Phil hummed. “Alright, you can be in charge of his lessons. I’ll speak with you privately later, so we can… go over the expectations. Does that suffice?” Tommy nodded vehemently.

As if the oncoming lull in conversation was their cue, a parade of servants entered the room with unnecessary amounts of food. They placed it all on the table (no mac and cheese in sight) and left without saying a word. They all had the same empty look in their eyes. Phil picked up a knife and fork and began to eat, which Wilbur took as a cue that he could take some food as well. Not wanting to be greedy, he grabbed one of the only things he recognized: ambrosia.

“Oh, has Tommy been feeding you ambrosia?” Phil asked as Wilbur took his first bite (feeling the warmth of the honey flavor on his tongue).

“Yes,” Wilbur answered. His eyes darted to Tommy again, who hadn’t taken any food yet. As quietly as he could, he whispered to Tommy, “are you gonna eat something, Toms?” Tommy looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry, Wilbur.” He grabbed a weird looking green plant that Wilbur didn’t recognize and took a bite. Wilbur smiled. (He was looking out for Tommy! He was being a good brother! And honestly, it felt amazing. He’d gone from being, well, scared of disappointing Tommy - which he still technically was - to caring for him!)

“Ambrosia,” Phil mused. Wilbur snapped his head back over to paying attention to Phil. (He’d rather be alone with Tommy. He didn’t like Phil. He just wanted Tommy.) “Ah, anyway. Wilbur, you haven’t really been all too talkative! I did know you before you lost your memory, of course, but you seem like a different person now! It’s a change for the better, don’t worry. Care to tell me a little bit about yourself? Interests, dislikes, you know.”

This was weird, to put it simply. It was awkward. Wilbur didn’t wanna be here. And didn’t he already answer this question?

He just shrugged. “I don’t really remember. I like hanging out with Tommy? Reading? I dunno.” He was conscious of how small and childish his voice sounded. It was embarrassing. He was supposed to be sixteen! About. He was not a little kid. And he wasn’t scared. (Or, well, maybe if he kept telling himself that he was brave and calm, he would believe it enough to make it true.)

Anything can be made true if someone believes it. It doesn’t have to be factual. Truth exists in the mind, not in the material world.

Funny how that works.

“That’s nice,” Phil replied. Smiling, he put down his fork. “Tommy, can we go have our talk now? You can have your servant escort Wilbur back to his room when he’s done eating.”

“Yeah,” Tommy answered. Wilbur squeaked as Tommy stood up with Phil and started to leave.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Ph-“

“I’ll send him to meet you in your room when we’re done talking. Don’t worry, he’s not in trouble.” Phil chuckled. “I just have to talk to him about something important. You finish eating, mate.”

“Okay,” Wilbur replied sadly. Phil gave an approving nod and beckoned for Tommy to approach him, taking his wrist and leading him out of the room.

Wilbur took another bite of the ambrosia. His chewing echoed in the cavernous room, which was now empty.

He didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“Ranboo?” he called out.

“Yeah?” Ranboo replied from directly behind him, making Wilbur jump.

“How did you get there?” he exclaimed.

“Teleported,” they replied simply, and echo of an earlier interaction between the two. “What’s up?”

“Phil said you’re ‘posed to take me to my room to wait for Tommy.”

“Is that… does Tommy want that?” Ranboo questioned.

“I don’t know. I actually have a question, Ranboo. Phil… Tommy seems scared of him. A little bit.”

“Phil’s just a little harsh on him sometimes. That’s how parents are. He has high expectations for Tommy, but he just wants the best for him. He wouldn’t hurt Tommy or anything, if that’s why you’re worried.”

“Okay, okay, that’s good. Do you wanna sit down and eat with me?” Wilbur offered.

“Oh! Uh, sure!” They pulled Tommy’s chair back out and sat down in it. “And, um, I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. That was rude of me. It’s just that, well, it’s part of my job to keep you safe. I know that staying in your room can be boring, and Tommy knows just as well as you.”

“-ou think I want to keep you locked in here? I’ve had my fair fucking share of cages, Wilbur. Just stop being a baby. Why can’t you just b-“

“I won’t do it again.”

“No, I know that you won’t, but I want you to know why. I don’t want you to always feel lost and confused, Wil. Neither does Tommy. I know he can be… a little overprotective, but he’s just clingy. But you can’t go leaving your room without him or me, okay? It’s just not safe, man. Remember Tommy told you about the security issues? He wasn’t just saying that.”

“I know. But, wasn’t Quackity…?”

“Yeah, some of the servants did something very bad, and it was important that they don’t work here anymore.”

“What did they do?” (What did Quackity and George do? Because it was them, wasn’t it?)

Ranboo shrugged. “I don’t know everything. I doubt Tommy even knows. Phil keeps a lot of secrets.”

“Oh?”

Ranboo’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve said too much. It’s not really my business. Don’t bring that up to Tommy, please.”

“I won’t!”

“Okay, good. You’re a really good person, Wilbur. I’m sorry all this has happened to you.”

“You’re really nice too, Ranboo! I’m glad we’re friends. Oh, y’know what? You, me, and Tommy should have a sleepover tonight. We can go in my room if you want. I’m sure Tommy would allow it.”

“Well… he probably will need it after his talk with Phil…” (How did Ranboo know about that? And didn’t Phil say that it was nothing bad?) “That’s a very nice idea, Wilbur. I might have to work, though. I am a servant.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes lightheartedly. “Isn’t it your job to be with me and Tommy? If it helps, you can get snacks for us. That’s servant-ing.” They chuckled.

“Okay, Wil. I’ll ask Tommy.”

“Awesome!” Feeling content with himself, Wilbur reached out and grabbed some more food. He didn’t need to know what it was to eat it. Everything tasted good. Ranboo even took a bread roll! All in all, a success. (Still, he couldn’t help but worry about Tommy.)

“Wilbur, can I take you to your room now?” Wilbur nodded, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Ranboo gave him a smile and took his hand. (Wilbur didn’t miss the parallel between Phil grabbing Tommy’s wrist to Ranboo gently taking his hand. Just to prove to himself that he had free will, he let go of Ranboo’s hand. They looked down at him, not quite disapprovingly, but enough to make Wilbur rethink his choice. He took their hand again, but wasn’t that still of his own will? It was. It was.)

Ranboo pushed the door open and nudged Wilbur into the room.

“I’m sure Tommy will be back soon,” Ranboo said. “If you’re gonna be okay, I can go get some sleepover stuff.”

Would Wilbur be okay alone? Yeah. Yeah, definitely! He was getting over his separation anxiety.

“Yeah, I’m good! Thank you, Ran.”

“Of course!” they chirped. Ranboo turned to leave, and before closing the door, they tacked on a “don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Wilbur replied, but the door was already shut. “I won’t,” he murmured shakily. He sat down on the floor crisscross and closed his eyes. Then, he drifted off, and the next thing he knew, he was waking up with Tommy burrowing in his arms. “Hello? Tommy?”

“Mmm,” Tommy whined.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, almost unintelligibly. “‘m tired.”

“No, I don’t believe that. Did Phil say something to you?”

“Mm mm,” Tommy refuted, shaking his head.

“What’s wrong, Tom?”

“Wwww,” Tommy drawled.

“Oh, Tommy, seriously.”

“I’m…” he trailed off. Wilbur sighed.

“Go to sleep, Tommy.” Tommy nodded wearily.

“Sorry, Phil,” he replied deliriously.

“No, no, no, no, no, I’m not Phil! It’s Wilbur!”

“Wil,” Tommy cooed. He nestled in Wilbur’s lap like a cat in a sun warmed windowsill and buried his face in Wilbur’s shirt.

Wilbur hoped Ranboo would be back soon.

Chapter Text

When Ranboo finally came back, they were met with Wilbur petting an unconscious Tommy who lay in his lap.

“Oh, again?” Ranboo muttered under their breath. So this was a reoccurring thing? They put down the bundle of blankets and snacks that they were holding and approached the brothers, sighing. “Tommy? Are you awake?” they whispered. Tommy scrunched his face up but didn’t respond verbally.

“He’s out of it,” Wilbur remarked. “He said he was tired.” Ranboo nodded.

“I’m sure. Wilbur, would you like to watch a movie while we wait for him to feel better? You can keep him right there in your lap and watch over him.”

Wilbur nodded, his hands moving through Tommy’s hair without even thinking about it. Ranboo smiled, like they thought it was so wholesome and cute, but it just made Wilbur feel weird. He moved his hand away from Tommy, who whined and tried to move closer to him.

“Oh. Sorry,” Wilbur whispered to his little brother. He put his hand back onto Tommy’s head.

Ranboo turned on the television and queued up a movie. Wilbur was immediately captivated by all the action and movement on the screen. As opposed to Tommy’s movies, Ranboo’s had real people. Wilbur stared, mouth agape, as the people in the TV fought, bled, and used magic.

And there was a city. Being destroyed.

Magic existed in cities? (No, surely, Wilbur had seen a movie before. Actually, he had a faint memory of this particular film! Superheroes, they were called. But they weren’t real.)

Wilbur used to be completely lost. But now it felt like he existed in two worlds, and they were colliding. There was Before Wilbur, who suffered and cried, and Now Wilbur, who was scared, confused, but happy.

He and Ranboo watched three superhero movies together. Wilbur liked the genre, but Ranboo seemed far more captivated.

“Do you want to watch another?” Ranboo asked as soon as the credits began to roll on the third. Wilbur chuckled.

“Why do you like them so much?” Ranboo’s face fell, and a sinking feeling opened up in Wilbur’s gut.

“I just like action,” they replied simply. Wilbur nodded.

“We can watch another! Whatever you want. Although I hope Tommy wakes up soon.” Ranboo exhaled solemnly.

“I would say we should get up and walk around, get you a change of scenery, but I don’t wanna leave him alone.” Neither did Wilbur. He needed to have Tommy be with him. (His Tommy.)

He didn’t want to tell Ranboo this. He didn’t want to seem possessive. The word held a negative connotation, even though it rang true. Wilbur understood that flaws were never to be discussed. If he ever said to anyone what really went on in his mind… well, he simply couldn’t. Not his memories, not his need for Tommy, none of it.

Being around Ranboo was more chill, but there was always an air of uncertainty. He didn’t know what they wanted. They might have an ulterior motive, for all he knew! Tommy may trust Ranboo, but Wilbur couldn’t fully.

Ranboo was nice, though. And had good taste in movies.

Halfway through the fourth one, Tommy started to stir.

“Hi Wil,” he murmured. Wilbur jolted into awareness, pulling his eyes off the screen, and he looked down at Tommy.

“Good morning!” Wilbur chirped.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a good morning! What do you wanna do today, Wil? Can we go hang out with T-“

“Tommy,” Ranboo interrupted. “Wilbur and I had a fun plan! Would you like to have a sleepover with the two of us? We can stay here, in Wilbur’s room, or we could go somewhere else. You can choose.” Tommy looked up at Ranboo, furrowed his eyebrows, and cocked his head to the side. Gradually, his expression softened and filled with understanding.

“We can stay here,” he finally decided. “Unless you wanna explore the palace a little? We can go see a bunch of rooms, anywhere that Wilbur hasn’t been to!”

“Hmm, maybe,” Ranboo mused. “But how about you fully wake up first, Toms. You were asleep for a while.”

“Fiiiiine,” Tommy drawled. “What’re we watching?”

“Superheroes!” Wilbur chirped. Tommy’s mouth formed an ‘o’.

“Really? Oh, unpause it! C’mon!” Ranboo smiled, satisfied, and turned their movie back on. Wilbur could feel their eyes on him and Tommy, rather than on the screen, but he didn’t want to look.

“He’s not your Tommy anymore, Wilbur,” Quackity said, his voice sweet and honeyed. Wilbur stared up at him to find only reluctant (and condescending, always condescending) honesty in his eyes. “You have to remember that.”

Wilbur tightened his grip on Tommy’s curls. Tommy didn’t make a pained noise, even when Wilbur realized he was pulling. He couldn’t help but remember his first interactions with Tommy since forgetting everything, how different those were from now. (His Tommy.)

By the time the movie was over, the strange feeling in the air had subsided. Ranboo wasn’t being weird anymore, Tommy was breathing normally, and Wilbur could no longer detect an undertone of information that was being kept from him.

“Can we do something else now?” Wilbur tentatively inquired. There was always a little voice in the back of his mind, compelling him to be meek, even though he’d been getting over it.

“Like?” Tommy prompted.

Wilbur wanted to leave his room.

“Tag. Or- or hide and seek.” Ranboo raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t disagree when they saw Tommy’s face light up.

“Can I be It?” Tommy asked excitedly. Wilbur turned to Ranboo. (Why was he turning to Ranboo? They weren’t in charge. They were a servant! But, Wilbur definitely wasn’t in charge either.) Ranboo’s eyes made Wilbur uncomfortable. Not how they looked, but the glazed wild state of them, the persistent level of depressed resignation. It was only now that he noticed how they looked at Tommy. At least in the moment. It was similar to how Tommy used to look at Wilbur, in a way. Like Ranboo knew something Tommy didn’t, and he was mourning it.

What a strange observation.

Tommy leapt to his feet and dragged Wilbur and Ranboo out into the hallway.

“I’ll give you guys a minute to run! Go!” Wilbur paused for a second before jogging off in a random (familiar) direction. He picked up the pace when he was out of Tommy’s sight, starting to run.

And he found himself approaching a familiar place.

Quackity’s old cell. He took a deep breath.

It would be a good place to hide for the game.

He stepped i-

“I spoke to George, Wilbur, and the plan is in motion. But there’s a problem.”

“Wh- what?” Wilbur sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes. Quackity had just barged in, and Wilbur was utterly confused.

“And y’know what?” he continued, ignoring Wilbur. He always ignored Wilbur. It was like Wilbur didn’t matter, he was just there for Quackity’s purposes! “It’s all your fucking fault.”

“Q, I don’t understand,” Wilbur mumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Quackity stopped in his pacing and turned to stare at Wilbur, preparing to snap at him. Upon reflex, Wilbur flinched.

Quackity’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s… fine.”

Quackity sighed deeply. “I haven’t been honest with you, Wilbur.”

“I know.” He was a prop for Quackity. But he still craved his attention. Quackity was better than him. (Was he?)

“George doesn’t think we can trust you. He thinks we should figure out a plan where you aren’t a key part. He doesn’t want you to escape. But I do, Wilbur, so I need you to be honest with me.”

Woah. Okay. Wilbur wasn’t stupid.

“Are you trying to manipulate me? Because I’m not gonna rely on you, Quackity.”

“See, that’s his problem! You still love Tommy. You fucking-“

“Stop.”

“Hey, don’t snap at me. I’m on your side, Wilbur.”

“I-… okay.” Wilbur did want to leave. He didn’t want to be here anymore. (Didn’t he?)

“We’re getting out in a few hours, Wil. George and I are gonna come get you, and you’ll go. Okay?” Wilbur’s eyes went wide as twin saucers.

“Okay!” This was it. This was it.

Quackity smiled, satisfied. A chill went down Wilbur’s spine. (In the back of his mind, he felt a whispering longing for something that he couldn’t quite place.)

Wilbur curled up into a ball in the back of the cell, hoping he wouldn’t get any more memories. (Maybe they weren’t memories at all! Maybe his mind was making up stories to fill the void that was emptied of memories.)

He sat in the cell for a while. And then, all of a sudden-

“Wilbur! I see you!” Tommy shouted. Wilbur shrieked, a noise saturated with excitement and devoid of fear, and he started to sprint out of the cell. He turned corners with reckless abandon, hearing Tommy gaining on him. “I’m gonna get you!”

“You’ll never catch me!” Wilbur yelled back. He couldn’t help but giggle as he ran, and he could hear the smile in Tommy’s voice as he called out to him.

And then Wilbur felt Tommy’s small hand hit his back.

“Ta-“

“RUN, WILBUR, RUN! WE’RE NOT GONNA MAKE IT! YOU JUST HAVE TO GET TO THE PORTAL!”

“No- no- n- the plan!”

“It’s fucked, just GO!”

Wilbur sprinted, tears streaming down his face. He’d never been so afraid. The rubber soles of his shoes squeaked as they hit the familiar palace floors. He had to get to the portal. For Quackity. For George.

For himself. If anything was for him anymore.

No, he wanted to escape. He didn’t want to be a prisoner any longer.

In the distance, he saw a door. It led to outside, it had to! He picked up the pace, r-

“Wilbur.” And one word made him freeze in his tracks. The voice was saturated with tears. “Please don’t go.”

He slowly turned around. “I’m leaving, Tommy. You’re not going to stop me.” Tommy released a shuttering sigh.

“I won’t stop you. But please, can you just think about this? Wilbur, I love you. You love me. We’ve been brothers for so long-!”

“But you’ve changed! You are not my brother. Tommy was.”

“I AM TOMMY! JUST- Wilbur, please. There’s no life for you out there. Whatever lies you’ve been told? Don’t listen. The plan that you’re acting on isn’t gonna work. This is your home! You need me. I am the only person who cares about you, Wilbur.”

Wilbur couldn’t refute that. It was true. But…

“You haven’t been acting like you care about me, Tommy.”

“Because I’ve been so focused on keeping you safe!”

“Keeping me imprisoned!” Wilbur corrected.

“That is not imprisonment. Wilbur, you know- I- don’t you understand? We need each other, Wil. This is your home. Just come back! I’m gonna make everything okay. I’ll be better. Please, please don’t leave. I’ll make everything better. But Wilbur, you’re my favorite person. And-“

“Tommy.” For a minute, Wilbur thought. Could he forgive Tommy? (For… everything?)

No.

But… Tommy had a point.

“I don’t wanna go through the portal,” Wilbur admitted weakly.

“I know.”

“I just- I can’t look at you without remembering-“ his voice cracked and broke off. He didn’t dare think about what Tommy did.

“I’m sorry. I can make it all better, Wilbur. Please, just… come over here.” He held his arms out to Wilbur, his lip quivering. Wilbur took step by step, feet feeling weighed down and leaden.

But he found his way into Tommy’s embrace. Where he belonged.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make it all go away. I’ll be better. I won’t be it anymore.” And he placed his hand on Wilbur’s temple.

And his memories dr ai n   e     d             a        w           a                              y

Wilbur stared at Tommy, speechless.

“You,” he seethed. “YOU DID TAKE MY MEMORIES!” Tommy stumbled backwards, his hand flinching away as his eyes immediately watered.

“Wh-“

“YOU DID SOMETHING TO ME! I- Tommy, I remember. I remember what you did. You trapped me here, and you stole my memories. For what, so I would care about you? You sick motherfucker.”

“No, you don’t understand, you don’t rem-“

“I REMEMBER JUST FINE! Don’t try and fucking manipulate your way out of this. Fuck you, Tommy. You lied to me.”

Tommy started to cry, if just barely. “I just wanted- I wanted- I wanted to be your favorite person.”

“Then be a good person! I loved you Tommy, I know I did. I don’t remember what you did to take that away, but you stole a lifetime of memories from me just so you could lock me in a room and create your little fantasy world where I cared about you? That’s- what the fuck!? Seriously! I knew there was something wrong, Tommy, but I trusted you.”

“W- Wil- you don’t know the full story-“

“But that doesn’t change what you did. Did you, or did you not, take my memories of your own free will?”

“… yes,” Tommy admitted. There was a pregnant pause as Wilbur let Tommy marinate in his confession. He wanted him to feel guilty. To feel fear, the same fear that Wilbur felt when he first woke up. He wanted Tommy to feel helpless, small, at Wilbur’s mercy. He wanted to hear an endless stream of apologies so that he could consider even looking at Tommy again.

“I never want to see you again.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy pleaded desperately. Wilbur turned around. But this time, it wasn’t to resign himself to Tommy’s saccharine embrace.

He wound up his fist and struck his br- Tommy in the face. Tommy staggered on his feet and fell flat on his butt, not necessarily from how hard the punch was, but from shock and feeling weak.

Wilbur didn’t care, surprisingly.

“Wil, please, wait-“

“NO! I’M NOT FALLING FOR THIS!” he shrieked, nearing hysterics.

“At- at least let me give you your memories back.” That made Wilbur pause. Tommy recognized his opportunity and continued. “I- I’d have to prepare, I can’t do it right n-“

“Then get to work,” Wilbur demanded. Tommy winced.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “P-“

“Good.” Tommy should be sorry.

(The back of his mind still buzzed with Tommy’s name. But what if Tommy put that there too? He couldn’t trust his own head. Still, a part of him hoped that Tommy would be able to redeem himself.)

It was a very small part.

Tommy squirmed away from Wilbur’s seething gaze and scampered off to go recover Wilbur’s memories.

And Wilbur was left alone again.

(Truly alone. He didn’t have Tommy anymore. Even though he didn’t want Tommy, he might hate Tommy, he still missed having someone. Did that make sense?)

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything anymore.

Chapter Text

Wilbur paced the halls angrily. He hated Tommy. And he had every right to! (Right?)

Tommy was the one who stole his memories! After all of the time they spent together. It was all a lie. Were his memories of caring about Tommy false? He couldn’t be sure! If it was possible for Tommy to remove his memories, could he manipulate them too? Wilbur couldn’t trust anything, not even himself. Any thought that crossed his mind could be the result of someone else putting it there! Wilbur didn’t have freedom of thought!

He screamed as loudly as he could muster, the noise raw and painful, until he was hoarse, shaking in the thin air. Then he cut himself off with a weak laugh. Yelling wasn’t going to solve anything, even if it did feel good. (It was a way to expend emotion. He was feeling so much, all at once, and he didn’t know how to put any of it into words.)

Wilbur was alone.

(Who was he?)

His limbs were all trembling. He felt a buzzing numbness crawling on his arms. Okay, okay, he was fine. He was furious, but he was fine.

“I’m fine,” he whispered to himself. But he wasn’t. He was lying to himself, just like he always has, just like Tommy did! He didn’t know what the truth was! He-

“My name is Wilbur,” he recited to himself, saying the things he knew were true. “I like to read. My memories were taken from me. I’m here… against my will.” But was he? He didn’t know that. He couldn’t even confirm that here was Tommy’s palace.

Okay. Start again. “I’m Wilbur.” His interests were only based on things that Tommy and Ranboo had him do, so that was a bust. “I’m around sixteen years old.” That had to be true, right? He couldn’t refute the obvious in his physical appearance.

(He thought back to the look in Tommy’s eyes just a few moments ago. There was a desperation there. A hopeless sadness, saturated with fear.

Wilbur hated the part of himself that still screamed to comfort Tommy. He could go find him right now, apologize for lashing out, and hope he could be forgiven.)

But Wilbur wouldn’t do that. Wilbur was not weak.

And soon, Tommy was going to come back and return his memories to him. That was good. Then he could leave and never have to see Tommy again. And Tommy would let him.

He took a shaky breath. He could feel his anger bleeding out of him, which was frustrating. He wanted to hold onto it! He deserved to be mad!

But storming around an empty hall seemed pointless. He could just sit down and zone out. That would be better.

He sighed and allowed himself to slump comfortably against the wall.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asked, calling his name from behind the blanket that they’d pinned up for privacy when changing.

“Do you need help?” Wilbur asked, nervous urgency evident in his voice. He noticed that he almost sounded… protective. Huh. But he’d only known this kid for a short while! So he shouldn’t get attached.

“No, no, don’t worry, I’m okay! It’s just…” Tommy stepped out from behind the blanket, practically drowning in the clothes that were way too big on him. “It doesn’t really fit.” Wilbur cackled, doubling over in laughter.

“You’re so tiny! HA!”

“Fuck you! I’m not a child, I’m almost as tall as you are-“

“Tommy, no, mate, you’re definitely not. It’s okay, tomorrow we’ll go out and buy something for you in your size.”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that, it’s really okay!” Wilbur narrowed his eyes, giving Tommy a look of disbelief.

“Tommy, it’s basic decency to make sure you have clothes you can wear.”

“Well- but-“

“No buts.”

Tommy snickered. Wilbur rolled his eyes.

“Go to sleep, child.” Wilbur was a hundred percent sure that Tommy was about to say something along the lines of ‘but I’m not tired!’ when he was cut off by a huge yawn. Luckily for Wilbur, it wasn’t contagious, so he was able to stare at Tommy like a schoolteacher reprimanding a misbehaving child until Tommy finally relented and plopped down onto the mattress.

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

“G’night Wil. Thank you.”

“Wil?”

Wilbur didn’t look up.

Tommy tried again, his voice actually sounding nervous. The audacity! “Wilbur?” Wilbur decided to stand, just so he could be taller than Tommy.

“You’re ready?” Wilbur asked dryly. Tommy nodded, paused, and then shook his head.

“I tried to get them back,” he said. “But I can’t.”

Wilbur’s face fell. “What?”

“Well, I- I gave them to Phil. I asked for them back, and-“

“What do you mean, gave them to Phil? Memories aren’t a tangible object!”

“Well, obviously, Wilbur, but you don’t know how magic works, and I’m still new to this, and I’m trying, but I can’t get it right, and I fucked it all up, and-“

“Stop.” Tommy was not the victim, he was in the wrong, and Wilbur did not want to comfort him. “Get to the point.”

“Phil has the memories. I asked to have them back, and he said no, to summarize. So I can’t give them back to you.” Wilbur stared at Tommy, feeling a helpless sense of disbelief.

“So I’m not gonna be able to remember?”

“I-“

“Just get them back from Phil! I don’t see the problem here, Tommy.”

“No, Wil, j-“

“This better not be another excuse.”

“If it helps, you can look at my memories? It’s not gonna be the same as yours, you won’t see everything with Quackity and whatever, or your whole life… but you can see all the time we spent together.”

“I want my memories back,” Wilbur mumbled sadly.

“I know. I- maybe I can make a deal with Phil at our next lesson. I never wanted to-“

“So then why did you?”

Tommy didn’t respond to that.

“You can look at my memories for now, if you want. But you’ll have to wait if you want all of yours back. You can’t leave just yet. And, uh, once you remember…”

“You think I’ll want to stay and live with you once I remember everything?” Wilbur asked, the question saturated with venom.

Tommy shook his head. “No, prob’ly not. But I don’t wanna never see you again.”

Wilbur hummed. “Did I ever actually care about you, Tommy? Or is that all just your magic?”

“You did.”

Wilbur didn’t know what to say. So instead…

“I’d like to see your memories, Tommy. Please.” Tommy nodded and gave him a hint of a smile.

“Okay. Can you please come with me to my room?”

“Fine.”

Tommy instinctively reached out to take Wilbur’s hand before quickly pulling it away. Wilbur took note of that, and silently followed after Tommy through the halls.

Chapter Text

“O-okay,” Tommy started. “Uh, I’m gonna start the spell, and then I’m just gonna need you to touch my forehead, okay?”

“Yes. Good.” Tommy nodded and sat down, legs crossed on the ground. Wilbur stared as he practically started to glow before him. And then Tommy took a dramatic, pained inhale, and collapsed to the ground.

Wilbur almost panicked for a split second, but restrained himself.

He placed two fingers on Tommy’s temple.

And then it was like a dam breaking, as memories surged into his skull. And Wilbur started to view the world through Tommy’s eyes.

It jolted up into a sitting position, gasping for air. Frantically, with doe eyes, it searched around its surroundings. With shaky hands, it reached out and found a small card on the ground.

The card read ‘Tommy. This is your punishment. One year in this world’s time, and then you can come home. Unless you don’t behave, of course. I’m watching.’

It cocked its head to the side in confusion, still trembling. Faintly, it registered that it was getting soaked by the second. Oh. There was rain. It was outside, sitting on the hard ground. (That seemed fitting.)

Suddenly, it heard footsteps and flinched, curling in on itself.

“Hello?”

It kept its head tucked down like it was supposed to. It didn’t look up (even though it really wanted to see what was going on).

“Are you okay, kid?” It didn’t move (well, not intentionally, but it was shaking so noticeably that it might seem like it was trying to. That was bad. It wasn’t supposed to be moving.) “Okay, hey, it’s okay! Are you hurt?” Tentatively, it shook its head no. It didn’t think so, anyway. “Alright, that’s good! You’re doing so good. Can you look up at me?”

Immediately, its head shot up, practically giving it whiplash.

And its eyes met those of another person, who was staring at it with a warm and comforting expression.

“Oh god, you’re just a little kid!” It furrowed its eyebrows at that. It was not just a little kid. “Okay, fine, you’re not? Why’re you out here?”

“… ‘m lost,” it answered weakly but truthfully.

Because that was the problem.

It didn’t remember anything. Its mind was a fresh white canvas, wiped clean of all memories.

There was an overwhelming static in its head. Unrelenting buzzing. Its mind was an endless extent of nothingness. It, Tommy, attempted to remember something, anything, but it came up empty.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that! Do you have somewhere that I can help you get to? I know my way around the city really well!”

It shook its head fervently. It didn’t know, it didn’t understand, it didn’t remember!

“No, I- I c-“ it couldn’t force any words out. Its voice was shaky (from overuse? Or from the fact that it was crying?) “I don’t rem-mem-mber,” it whined, a hiccup interrupting the middle of the word. “Anything.”

The person’s face fell.

“You don’t remember anything?” they repeated in disbelief.

“My name is Tommy,” it offered feebly.

“I’m Wilbur. I- uh, Techno’s gonna kill me, but I live right down the block… if you wanna just come inside until the rain stops.”

It blinked slowly in confusion.

“You can come with me to where I live, if you’re comfortable with that. I don’t wanna leave you out here, Tommy.” Tommy didn’t understand. But Tommy didn’t voice its confusion. There were a lot more pressing concerns.

So it nodded weakly. Wilbur gave it a small (pitying) smile and started to walk, expecting it to follow.

It did as it was supposed to. That made logical sense.

Wilbur led it down the dreary streets, and Tommy kept itself busy by watching how the torrential rain made Wilbur’s hair get wetter and wetter. (He was starting to look as pathetic as Tommy! That didn’t feel right.)

And then he came to a short stop in front of a tall building that was decrepit and black with soot. It almost crashed into Wilbur, but it caught itself.

“Here we are,” Wilbur said sheepishly. “Home sweet home.” It said nothing in response. Wilbur inhaled shakily and pushed the door open. He led Tommy up a flight of stairs and to a floor that was really just a long hallway, peppered with different doors all the way down. “We’re the fourth one on the left.”

The fourth one on the left was significantly different than the other doors. It had writing and color all over it. As it approached the door, it was able to read a couple of the messages. ‘Techno and Wilbur’s house! Keep out!’ ‘This residencey is home to 2 legal adults’ ‘Home Home’ and a drawing of a little pig with a crown were only a few of the things on it.

Wilbur noticed it staring and chuckled. “Techno an’ I have been here for a few years, so… we used to be a lot more kiddish. I promise we’re more mature now.”

Tommy felt like it should reply. But it didn’t know how. So it remained silent. That was best.

Wilbur took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He gestured for it to enter.

“So, uh, you can borrow some of my clothes? If you want? Or you can just go sleep, ‘cause it’s really late. Or whatever you want! If you’re hungry, you can look in the pantry, but we don’t really have a lot. We, uh, need to go shopping soon.” Tommy looked around the apartment. It was a single room, with a mini fridge and a shelf in one corner for food, a pretty big mattress in another, some drawers, and a couple of boxes and miscellaneous stuff laying around.

“If you need the bathroom, it’s not in the apartment, it’s down the hall. And we’d prefer if you keep the lights off, because we wanna keep the electricity bill down, and we already have the fridge going. Uh, let me know if you need anything, kid. I’ll- um, I’ll stay here.”

It blinked a few times. Wilbur looked at it expectantly, like some dejected animal.

“Thank you,” Tommy whispered gratefully. And above anything else, it just wanted to rest. So, while Wilbur stared, it picked up a blanket off the bed and laid down on the floor with it. (It was still sopping wet, and it didn’t want to ruin Wilbur’s mattress!)

It drifted off immediately.

Some time later, it stirred upon hearing whispers. It kept its eyes closed and listened.

“You literally kidnapped a child,” a voice that Tommy didn’t recognize deadpanned.

“I didn’t kidnap him! He came of his own free will! He said he doesn’t remember anything, and he was crying outside in the rain! What was I supposed to do?” Wilbur replied. And…

Oh, did Tommy love a certain aspect of Wilbur’s testimony.

‘He’.

Tommy liked that a lot more.

He was gonna keep that, he decided.

(Faintly, the holds of magic on the child’s mind began to weaken. Magic didn’t exist in this particular world, you see. So its powers couldn’t last forever.)

“He doesn’t remember anything?” A pause. “So you’ve either kidnapped a con artist or you’re trying to help a child who clearly needs more assistance than we can give him.”

“It’s definitely the latter, but come on, Techno, we need to give him a place to stay.”

“We can’t afford his medical care! And what if he has a family?”

“Well, I don’t know! We can help him find if he’s related to anyone that can help, or maybe a friend, and if not-“

“You’re not suggesting we keep him, Wil. He’s not a puppy! You cannot just keep an entire child!”

“I know, Techno, and might I remind you that you’ve never let me keep stray puppies eith-“

“Because we can’t afford that!”

There was a sigh.

“The kid can stay if he wants,” the other voice finally relented. “But we’re going to get him the help he needs, unless he’s been lying to you-“

“-which he isn’t-“

“-and then he will go off on his merry way. And Wilbur, please, don’t rule out the fact that the kid’s lyin’ to you. You’ve fallen for that before.”

It was definitely Wilbur who sighed this time. “I know. But-“

Tommy fell asleep again before he could hear anything more.

Then the memory went black. Wilbur heard a ‘tik tik tik’ that sounded like someone flipping through slides. And another started.

“Techno, this is Tommy. Tommy, Techno. He’s my twin brother!” Tommy looked back and forth between the two boys. Wilbur had a significantly smaller build, and shorter brown hair compared to Techno’s that was long and pink.

“You don’t look like twins,” Tommy observed quietly. Techno snickered.

“We do, if you just look at our faces,” Techno explained. Wilbur took that as a cue to cover Techno’s hair with his hands with a huge grin on his face.

Oh, yeah. Tommy could see it.

He nodded.

“So, Tommy, Wilbur said you lost your memory?” Another nod. “Is there anything you do remember? Anything that can help us get you to a friend or family member?”

“Uh…” he thought deep into his mind, but found nothing. “No. It’s blank.”

“But you know your name,” Techno continued.

“Well, yeah, but that’s only because…” No, Tommy shouldn’t talk about the note he had. That seemed wrong, somehow. “I dunno.”

Techno didn’t look like he was buying it. But he nodded nonetheless.

Blackness. Tik tik tik.

It was just Techno and Tommy in the apartment for the first time in days.

“Hey, kid? You know you can tell us if you do remember anything. We just want to help you. So… if you were running away, unsafe, anything like that…”

“Thanks, Techno. But I don’t remember anything.”

“That’s okay too.” The room was silent for a minute. Tommy kept himself occupied by staring out the single window at the passerbys. “Tommy, would you like to come to the store with me? You can help pick out some food if you want. Maybe a bit of exposure to the world would help your memory.”

Oh. Tommy hadn’t left the apartment since Wilbur found him.

“Can we wait until Wilbur comes back and bring him?”

Techno sighed and a whisper of a smile grew on his face. “Sure, kiddo.”

Because, well, Wilbur felt safe. Tommy, above anything else, wanted Wilbur. Already he could feel himself growing clingier. (And on Earth, since there wasn’t any magic, Tommy was slowly growing back into himself.)

Tik tik tik.

“Tommy, you simply cannot keep wearing my clothes. They’re giant on you!”

“But Wilbuuuuuuuh,” Tommy whined. “They’re comfy! And I know you feel that surge of masculinity in your fragile little mind when I dress like you. You feel protective and powerful and brother-y. You looooove me.”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow. “I’m buying you new clothes today,” he decided.

“No! You really don’t have to, it’s okay, Wil, I know money sucks-“

“That’s modern capitalism for ya,” Techno interrupted.

“And we do have some money,” Wilbur added. “You do know Techno has a job, right?”

“Obviously, I knew that.” No, he did not. He seemed to selectively understand some things about the world, but have no concept of others. His memory was weird and he hated it.

“Well, Techno works at our friend Niki’s shop. She’s a professional tattoo artist, and she does piercings and hair and stuff. She does Techno’s hair for free, that’s why he’s able to keep it pink, and she said when we turn eighteen she’ll tattoo us!”

“At a discount,” Techno chimed in, still not looking up from his book.

“That’s cool!” Tommy chirped.

“And I’m-“

“Currently unemployed. Wilbur got fired. Again.”

“Hey! You know why I got fired!”

“Your bosses never like you?” Tommy offered. Wilbur scoffed.

“Well, one of ‘em liked me a little too much. At my first job, crazy thing, my boss literally kidnapped me.”

“And I had to rescue him.”

“Yeah, but it took you two weeks!” Wilbur exclaimed

“A week and a half!” Techno shot back. And then they both devolved into giggling.

They talked about Wilbur’s experience like it was normal. Maybe it was.

“Why’d you get kidnapped?”

“I dunno. Guy was weirdly obsessed with me. But yeah, most of my bosses just fired me because of my personality.”

“Wilbur’s hard to work with.”

“I’m just always right!”

“Niki’s offer to hire you too still stands, Wil.”

“Yeah, but I’d feel bad. She doesn’t need another employee and she’d just be doing it out of pity. We don’t need that.”

“I can help you guys!” Tommy offered. “I can get a job!”

Techno shot Wilbur a look. The twins had a conversation with their eyes while Tommy sat idly by.

“Tommy,” Wilbur finally said, “do you wanna join my search for a job? Maybe we can work somewhere together!” Tommy’s mouth opened into an ‘o’.

“Yeah! I’d love to! Any way that I can help you two!”

He knew he was fully indebted to Wilbur and Techno. Especially with his missing memories making him a dead weight. And he wasn’t stupid. He knew Techno didn’t want him to stay. But Wilbur did. That’s why he loved Wilbur more. He’d never admit it, though. Wilbur would be too, too smug.

“Great! Now, you’re coming with me. I’m gonna buy you something new to wear.”

Wilbur took Tommy by the hand and led him out of the apartment.

Tik tik tik.

“Tommy! Guess what! So, you know how you don’t remember anything?”

“Yes, Wilbur, I remember,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Well, Techno and I have a surprise for you! Since you don’t remember your birthday, we decided that today is your birthday! We’re gonna go to the aquarium!” Tommy’s eyes grew wide and starry.

“Really?!”

“Yeah! Get dressed, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

And turns out, the aquarium is just about the coolest place on Earth. Tommy spent hours staring at each tank, gazing at the fish and mesmerized with how they swam. His favorite part was when he got to touch the sting rays!

Wilbur and Techno spent the whole time commenting under their breath about how inhumane the whole place was, but they still pretended to enjoy it for Tommy’s sake.

He was getting to be a kid. (And Tommy knew, deep down, that in his old life that he’d forgotten, he wasn’t ever this happy. He was starting to be okay with his amnesia.)

“Wilbur! Look- they have rainbow fish!” Tommy ran up to the tank, careful not to actually touch it. He didn’t wanna accidentally bang on it and startle the poor fish!

“Tommy, come over here! It’s you!” Wilbur was pointing to a tank with goldfish.

“Oi! Fuck off!”

Techno and Wilbur stared at him. (Ha! Who’s the goldfish now?)

“Where did you learn that word?” Techno asked.

“Uh… some guy on the street?”

Wilbur sighed. “And we were trying so hard to keep your innocence intact. Oh well. I guess I can start swearing again! Fuck bitch cunt shit ass-“

“Wilbur!” Techno exclaimed. “There are small children here!” Surely enough, a kid who couldn’t have been older than five was standing right by Wilbur.

“Shit! Fuck!” the child giggled. “Bitch!” Their mother gasped dramatically and scooped them up, shooting Wilbur a death look.

“You should be ashamed, young man, using that mouth around your little brother!”

“Techno’s actually two minutes older-“

“No, idiot, she means Tommy!” Techno explained.

Oh.

Tik tik tik.

Tommy sat quietly in the apartment, curled up into a ball. He couldn’t sleep. Wilbur and Techno were huddled together on the mattress, and Tommy could join them, or he could sleep on the floor like he always did, but neither option called to him.

Tommy knew what he had to do.

He was making Techno and Wilbur unfairly attached to him. He came into their lives out of nowhere! He had to leave.

He stood up, shaking in his resolve.

And went for the door.

“Tommy?” Wilbur mumbled groggily.

Shit.

“Go back to sleep, Wil.”

“No, Toms, what’re you doing?”

“I- I have to go.”

“Tommy-“

“I have to go.”

“Why?” Wilbur asked, his voice breaking. “Do you have somewhere to go?”

“…no,” Tommy admitted. Wilbur hummed and carefully got off the mattress, slowly approaching Tommy.

“I’m not gonna make you stay, Tommy. But I don’t think you should leave.”

“I ruined you and Techno’s lives,” he muttered.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re providing for me, and caring about me, and I’m just a dead weight! I can’t do anything in return!” Plus, he’s annoying and a pain to be around. He was surprised that they tolerated him at all.

“Tommy, where is this coming from? … It doesn’t matter. What matters is that that’s not true at all, sunshine. Listen, Techno and I have had a rough go of it. You know that. And we’ve cut people out of our lives before! If we didn’t like you, Tommy, we would’ve asked you to leave. Techno especially doesn’t keep that sort of thing to himself. But we’ve talked about this, actually. And you can stay with us as long as you want. You’re like my little brother! I’ve spent my whole life as the younger brother. I love every second that I get to spend with you. And that’s what makes you not a dead weight. You bring us happiness! And I know that we do the same for you.

“So you can leave. You’re allowed to leave. I can’t make you stay. But you’re always wanted here, Tommy. I could never, ever hate you. And you’re trying to help! As soon as we both find a job, everything’ll be even better. It’s just fucking hard to find a place that’ll hire a fifteen year old and someone who’s… however old you are. You know what I mean. But I’d like you to stick it out with us. Please don’t go.”

Tommy opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn’t get words out. He didn’t know what to say.

“Okay,” he replied shakily.

“Okay?”

“Okay. I won’t go. Thank you.” Wilbur smiled.

“Of course! We can still go outside, if you want. Wanna go on a nighttime walk through the city?”

Tommy chuckled. “Haven’t you been kidnapped multiple times?”

“Technically, yeah, but nobody’s gonna mess with me and my little brother!”

Little brother. Wilbur loved him. Everything about that felt so right. From being a him and a brother, to have someone who cared, to knowing that he had unconditional love and a place to stay…

Tommy was overcome with happiness. It bubbled over and he squeaked excitedly as Wilbur brought him outside.

They went to a kids play park.

They didn’t get kidnapped.

Tommy was happy.

Tik tik tik.

Tommy was having a nightmare. It didn’t make any logical sense. Dreams usually don’t.

He was tied to a chair. There was another person there, wearing a mask with a crudely drawn on smiley face.

They had a knife.

And they drew lines up and down and up and down Tommy’s skin with it. The skin didn’t break or bleed. But it hurt regardless.

There was a timeskip in the dream. Tommy found himself on the ground before a taller man who was fuming. The man had the masked person dangling in the air by the scruff of their neck.

The man took off the mask to reveal the face of a child. A little kid who was trembling and in tears.

Another time skip. This time, Tommy is standing by as the child is tied to the same chair. Another person, (a servant, his mind supplies, yet he doesn’t know why) walked in.

“—— told me to do this. I’m sorry.”

And he put the knife to the child’s skin.

In the dream, Tommy screamed.

But when he actually jolted awake, he couldn’t seem to make a sound. He reached out for Wilbur before he could stop himself and grabbed his shoulder.

“Wh- Tommy? Are you okay?”

“I had a nightmare,” he answered, his voice trembling.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“… no.”

“Alright. Cmere, come onto the mattress.”

“What?”

“Yep, you heard me. No more floor for Mr. Tommy, no sir. Get up here, I’m gonna cuddle you.”

“Really?”

“Unless you don’t want to. But Techno always does this for me when I can’t sleep or I’m scared.” Tommy grinned and climbed up onto the bed, crawling into Wilbur’s arms.

Ensconced in his brother’s hug, he started to drift off again.

He had one last thought before falling asleep.

The mind cannot invent a face. Dreams are entirely composed of faces that you’ve seen before. Maybe it can make a face out of different features from different people. Tommy didn’t know. But the people in his nightmare? He was pretty sure he’d seen them before.

Tik tik tik.

“Hey, Tommy? Do you wanna go to the movies with me tonight?”

“Oh- sure? Uh, Techno too?” Wilbur shook his head and plopped down next to Tommy.

“Nah. He doesn’t really like romance.”

Romance? Uh… okay.

“Sure, we can go see a movie!”

And so when the sun set, Wilbur took Tommy to the movie theater. He bought him popcorn all to himself and a box of candy for himself. And he was abuzz with excitement.

“Okay- Tommy- I’m really excited, I don’t know if you know this, but I fuckin’ love romance movies. Techno says I’m a hopeless romantic. I dunno if you’ve really seen a lot of movies in your memory, and honestly I sure haven’t, but I think you’re gonna love this.”

“O-okay!” Tommy stammered, a little overwhelmed but fully here for Wilbur’s excitement! Woohoo!

They entered the theater. The lights dimmed. And Wilbur was giggling excitedly.

Tommy would be in despair to learn that Wilbur wouldn’t stop giggling the entire movie. He would giddily shake Tommy’s shoulder and go “look! Look- they’re gonna kiss!” And apparently, he had a knack for predicting the plot of these things, and yet he wasn’t bored at all.

Tommy was. He did not enjoy the romance. And the kissing part- ew! And he didn’t feel the same excitement Wilbur did. He was just glad to be hanging out with his brother.

“Did you like it?”

…

“No.”

“Do you wanna go watch a superhero movie instead, Tom? I think you’d like that more.”

“Can we?” Tommy squeaked excitedly. “Yeah, yeah, I wanna!”

That day, Wilbur taught him how to sneak into a movie. Superhero movies were a thousand fucking times better than romance, Tommy learned. It was his time to giggle excitedly.

And Wilbur’s turn to watch his little brother be happy.

After the movie, on their nighttime walk home, Wilbur asked Tommy a question.

“How old do you think you are? I- I mean, obviously younger than me and Techno, but…”

“You guys are fifteen?” Tommy asked. Wilbur nodded. “Maybe I can be thirteen. I dunno.”

“Sure, that sounds good.”

Tik tik tik.

Tommy sat on the windowsill playing with a fidget toy that Techno bought for him. He knew that at least one of the twins kept looking up from their respective books to find him endearing before resuming their immersions in their fantasy worlds, but he didn’t care.

It was nice, just the three of them. Tommy was happy.

Just Tommy and Wilbur. And Techno.

And as Tommy sat in that windowsill, fidgeting with his toy, he realized that a sick part of him was jealous of Techno. He looked up at the twins, who were cuddled up with each other on the mattress, and he was jealous of Techno.

Wilbur was his brother. He wanted to hang out with Wilbur, not Techno.

But that was wrong of him to want. Because Wilbur was Techno’s too.

(Wilbur was Tommy’s, a previously dormant part of Tommy hissed. This was a part of him that —— possessed too. —— felt similarly about Tommy. In a sense. Because possessiveness can be in a loving way, or in a sense of property ownership. Despite it all, Tommy had a deep seated need for his brother.)

He took a deep breath. Wilbur wasn’t just for him. He had to understand that other people deserved time with his favorite person. So even though he wanted to join Wilbur and Techno and cuddle them, he refrained. He didn’t wanna be too clingy.

He didn’t want to be like ——. And he didn’t know what that meant. He didn’t know why his brain screamed at him not to be like ——, but he had that intrinsic need.

“Just be good,” he whispered to himself. Be good.

Tik tik tik.

“Wil, Wil, Wil, can we go do something today?”

“What do you wanna do?”

“Uh- I dunno. Something? We can go out into the woods and climb trees?”

“We’re in the city, Tommy. There’s not many woods.”

“But maybe the park? There’s a ton of parks! And big trees!”

“Yeah, I dunno. Maybe.” Okay, Wilbur wasn’t into that. Try something else.

“We can go get food? Or just walk around? Or- or- or- maybe we can go feed fish? Or birds? Can we go feed pigeons? Pleeeease?”

“I don’t really wanna right now,” Wilbur admitted. And yeah, he wasn’t trying to hurt Tommy’s feelings. If Wilbur didn’t want to do something, he shouldn’t have to!

Tommy shouldn’t be selfish. Wilbur’s wants and needs went above his own.

“Okay, sorry. Maybe later?”

“No, Tommy, don’t be sorry! I’m just really tired right now. I’m gonna sleep. Can we do it tomorrow?”

Tommy brightened. “Yeah! Tomorrow.”

But… he was still sad. So while Wilbur went to sleep, Tommy left the apartment with a single slice of bread and walked until he found a couple of pigeons to feed.

“Hello pigeons,” he chirped. “How are you today?” The birds all cooed at him. “Hey, don’t fucking insult me, Cheryl! I know where you live!” The rude bird hopped away sadly. “Oh, okay, fine, I forgive you. But don’t do it again.” Cheryl nodded. Tommy grinned and tossed her a bread crumb. “Anyone else want some?” None of the birds said anything. Maybe they didn’t understand English.

Tommy gave them the rest of the bread anyway.

Tik tik tik.

“Tommy, I have good news for you! Wilbur went out today while you were reading the book I gave you, and it was ‘cause he was going to a job interview! He wanted to tell you himself, only if he gets the job, but I know he’s a shoe-in. So do you wanna celebrate with him tonight?”

“W- Wil’s gotten a job?” Without Tommy? Oh. “That’s awesome! Where’s he gonna go work?”

“A record store, I think. He didn’t tell me too much about it, but I know it’s something to do with music. He’s always loved music, but you know we can’t just get a guitar or anything. Although I have offered to steal one for him before.”

“That Wilbur,” Tommy giggled, “never a fan of stealing.”

“Yeah, couldn’t be us.”

“Do you wanna go out and steal something with me?” Tommy asked. “It would be fun! A good bonding experience!” Techno snickered and shook his head lightheartedly. He returned to his book. (Was that all he ever did? Read or go to work? Tommy was trying to be a good brother to him!) “Do you think I could get a job too, Techno?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, honestly. You’re kinda young for a job, nerd. Most places don’t hire a little kid.”

“Aw. Okay.”

And an hour later, Techno left the apartment wordlessly. Tommy hopped down off the windowsill (Techno called his his perch. Wilbur called him a little bird boy. Tommy didn’t disagree with either of these things) and lied down on the floor.

The ceiling had little spots and stains on it. If Tommy focused, he could imagine they were little animals.

There was an elephant, at least three cats, a snake, and a pair of eyes staring at him.

He breathed deeply, feeling his back rise and fall on the hard floor. His ribs expanded and shrunk as he took in breaths and exhaled, and he gently closed his eyes.

Then the door opened, jolting him back to awareness.

“Tommy, they were out of normal balloons, so I got one that says ‘it’s a boy’ and I think we can cross out ‘it’s’ and change it to ‘you’re’ and we should be good,” Techno said rapidly. “Do you wanna do it?”

“Uh- sure?” He grabbed the balloon out of Techno’s hand and found a marker.

His handwriting was shit.

And when Wilbur got home only a few minutes later, he was close to tears (of happiness, don’t worry!)

“You got the job?”

“I got it!!”

“YES! NOW WE’RE A DUAL-INCOME FAMILY!”

“WOOHOO!”

Tik tik tik.

“Hey, Wilbur?”

“Yeah?” Tommy paused, fiddling with the rock in his hands. The night was cold, but it was still nice to sit outside with Wilbur.

“Uh… you’remyfavoritepersonandIloveyou,” he blurted.

“Awww, Tommy! That’s so cute! I love you too!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur ruffled his hair. “Little brother.”

Yeah.

Tik tik tik.

Chapter Text

Tommy sat down on the side of a fountain in the park and reached into his pocket.

He still had that note that he woke up with almost a year ago. And it had almost been a year! What would happen to him when that time was up? He didn’t understand what any of it meant, but he was scared.

Tommy still hadn’t told Wilbur or Techno.

‘Behave’. The word send a chill down his spine. He hadn’t even looked at the note in months! Why did he care so much all of a sudden? (Because he knew that he had to be afraid, but not why.)

He sighed deeply, crumpled up the note, and through it into the fountain.

“Hey! Punk!” he heard a gruff voice shout at him. He spun around and came face to face with some angry looking old man. “Did you just litter?” Tommy shrieked and sprinted away.

Tik tik tik.

Tommy was lying down with his head in Wilbur’s lap, half asleep. With one hand, Wilbur carded his fingers through Tommy’s hair, and with the other, he was playing chess with Techno.

“Kill ‘m,” Tommy mumbled.

“Tommy, I’ve taught you how to play. You know that Wilbur has to get out of check before trying to ‘kill me’, kid.”

“Shank him, Wil.”

“No, Tommy, I have to move my king. I’ll kill him next move.”

“No you won’t,” Techno said. “You can’t beat me.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, smiled smugly, and moved his king out of check. Then Techno moved one of his pieces.

“Horse,” Tommy mumbled, his eyes blinking slowly. He was starting to fall asleep (it was past midnight, and he didn’t know why these weird fuckers insisted on playing chess so late) but he didn’t want to miss the ending of the game.

“Knight,” Wilbur corrected gently. But he still moved the horse in an L shape to take one of Techno’s pieces. Techno reached to grab one of his pieces before pausing.

“Tommy, I swear, if you say castle when I pick up my rook-“

“Castle,” Tommy giggled childishly. Techno sighed and took Wilbur’s horse (yes, Tommy knew it was actually called a knight, but why be boring?) with his castle. Suddenly, Wilbur jumped to his feet and Tommy fell off of his lap.

“Yes! Hahaha, checkmate!” he exclaimed. Tommy rubbed his head angrily.

“Ow, man!” he whined.

“It’s not even checkmate,” Techno added. “I still have my queen here, remember? I can take any of your pieces.”

“Oh.” Wilbur sat back down and without a second thought, he picked up Tommy’s head and gently placed it back in his lap. “Sorry.”

“Prick,” Tommy grumbled. But then he added on a quiet “I forgive you.” Wilbur smiled softly.

Tommy wasn’t able to stay awake to see Techno’s inevitable victory.

Tik tik tik.

Tommy started to stir to the sound of hushed talking.

“Your gremlin is a lot more peaceful in his sleep.” Techno’s voice was like a deep rumbling purr that almost coaxed Tommy back to sleep. Almost. But it didn’t! Because if the twins were talking about him, he was gonna listen.

“He’s not my gremlin.”

“He is!”

“No I’m not,” Tommy piped up, making it known he was awake.

“Ugh- Techno! You spoiled it! You woke him up!”

“You woke him up!”

“It was both of y… where are we?” Tommy took a second to realize his surroundings. They were in some kind of… chamber with a bunch of other random people.

“It’s a train! I had a train phase when we were younger, so we’d always save for tickets, and we realized we’d never taken you on one!” Wilbur explained. Tommy made the goldfish face again.

But then, he circled back to “I’m not your gremlin.”

“You are, sort of,” Techno replied. “I mean, make no mistake, you’re human with fully free will, but Wilbur did just kinda scoop ya off the street.”

“I think I scooped him off the street,” Tommy declared boldly. Wilbur and Techno laughed. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows. It wasn’t that funny.

And then, Tommy realized the absolute audacity of Techno. He’d put Tommy in his lap!

Tommy squawked and pushed himself up to sit on his own. “Fuck you!”

Techno snorted. “It took you that long to notice?”

“Aww, no, Tommy, it was so cute! You were cuddling up to Techno so nicely-“

“No! Fuck you fuck you fuck you die die die-“

“I’m his favorite,” Wilbur bragged snidely to Techno.

“No! I hate you too! I hate both of you!”

“That’s a lie.”

“… fine,” Tommy grumbled, settling back down into his seat. It was pretty exciting to be on a train! He looked out the window, and they were practically flying over the ground, it was so fast!

“Aww, Tommy, don’t be mad,” Wilbur cooed. “C’mere.” Tommy obeyed (behaved? No. Ignore that stupid note) and climbed into Wilbur’s arms. (Agh, he was so much smaller than his brother! It was frustrating.) Wilbur ruffled his hair as Tommy pouted.

“And you say you’re not clingy,” Techno remarked.

“When have I ever said that?” Wilbur replied with his smug little bitch grin as Tommy exclaimed “I’m not clingy!”

“Mhm,” Techno hummed, not believing him for a second.

“Okay, be that way, but you fuckers have kidnapped me! Multiple times- I don’t even know where we are!”

That caused one of the strangers on the bus to look up from their phone with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s our brother,” Wilbur explained.

“Nuh uh,” Tommy protested quietly, but the stranger didn’t seem to care. “Prick.” Out of literally nowhere, Wilbur grabbed a hat (did he make it with magic powers or some shit?) and put it on Tommy’s head.

“Our stop is next,” was all he said.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Techno responded.

“Ugh, you people and your surprises!” Tommy groaned, despite being elated for what they had in store. A few minutes later, the train stopped and the doors swooshed open. Wilbur gently took Tommy’s hand and led him through the station. And once they left…

They were met with bright blue skies and an extensive field of green. There were pens, pastures, and barns that dotted the countryside. And- were those sheep?

“Oh my god, Tommy’s actually vibrating with excitement,” Wilbur said to Techno over Tommy’s head. Tommy jumped up and down in agreement, flapping his hands ecstatically.

He wanted to express his excitement verbally, but was only able to muster an excited squeak of “sheep!”

“Do you wanna go see the sheep now?” Techno offered. “Or we could also-“

“Sheep,” Tommy declared.

“Or-“

“Sheep.”

“Oookay, then.”

Tommy grinned widely and reached for Techno’s hand without a second thought. Techno paused for a moment before taking it.

And so then they walked down a dirt road until finally, they made it to a field that had some sheep in it. With stars in his eyes, Tommy threw himself at a sheep which let out a scared bleat as he pounced on it.

“Can we stay here forever?” Tommy asked, grabbing the sheep’s wool with tiny fists.

“Uh… no? We don’t have anywhere to live here,” Techno answered rationally.

“But, the barn!” Tommy whined.

“We’re not sleeping in a barn again.”

“We could spend one night in a hayloft,” Wilbur offered. “For the aesthetic, of course.”

“Oh! Please, can we can we can we?” Tommy begged.

“Wh- why are you asking me?” Techno asked. “I’m not your parent.”

“I’m actually like a father to you,” Tommy stated. “And I say we’re staying the night.” Techno rolled his eyes.

“It is illegal.”

“By that, he means yes,” Wilbur whispered into Tommy’s ear. Tommy squeaked in excitement again and buried his face in the sheep wool.

Tommy spent the entire day looking at farm animals. Wilbur didn’t let him touch the cows, because he didn’t wanna spook them, but he was still allowed to look! And he even saw a duck! That part was pretty cool.

Then as the sun began to set, Wilbur and Techno brought Tommy into one of the barns and hoisted him up into the loft. He giddily wriggled into the hay as the twins tried to get themselves up.

Once they were all safely hidden from the farmer who entered the barn mere seconds after Techno pulled Wilbur up, the brothers were able to fall asleep.

Until, in the middle of the night, Tommy heard something.

“Tommy,” a voice hissed.

He shot straight up and looked around. He was only met with darkness.

“Tommy,” it hissed again eerily.

“Hello?” Tommy replied, conscious of how small his voice sounded. (He hated feeling like a little kid.)

“Come here,” it commanded. The voice was almost snakelike, sending chills down Tommy’s spine.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice shaky. Wilbur and Techno were still sleeping. Gently, he tried to nudge Wil awake.

Wilbur didn’t budge.

“Come, Tommy. Now.”

Tommy hummed nervously.

“Wiiiil,” he beckoned, his voice hushed. “Please get up.”

“Now,” the voice ordered harshly. Tommy winced and peeked over the edge of the hayloft. There wasn’t anyone down there…

But he should probably climb down. Slowly, he swung his legs over the edge, grabbed on, and lowered himself down. He fell and landed on the ground with an ‘oomph’ and stood up, brushing himself off.

“Tommy,” the voice whispered again. His legs carried him towards the noise despite the fact that he would rather go back to sleep (safely in Wilbur’s arms).

He stepped out of the barn and a gust of cold wind slapped him in the face.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a man standing in front of him.

Phil, his brain supplied.

“Your punishment is over, Tommy. I’m here to collect you.” And just like that, everything came flooding back. From the moment of his creation, to Phil raising and training him…

To Tommy, creating a world called Earth. And he’d created worlds with life before, but this one had the most interesting stuff, and the beings were so much more… sentient! And so cool! They were called humans, self proclaimed, and honestly they looked just like all of Phil’s sentient beings! The evolved ones were always bipedal with the same general features, changing out a few. All of the servants in their realm were similar for a reason! And finally, Tommy was good enough to make a fully evolved species.

His hubris would be his downfall.

For the first time, despite not being allowed to, Tommy had left the realm alone and gone to Earth. Immediately, Phil felt the change in the air and knew that his Tommy had disobeyed.

And a sentence echoed in Tommy’s mind.

“If you like your world so much, fine. Spend some time there! Without me! Ungrateful little shit- I’ve done everything for you!” Tommy spouted frantic apologies, but Phil didn’t care. “If I see you after your punishment and your behavior problems haven’t faded, there will be consequences.”

And then his mind went blank.

“N- no… please,” Tommy pleaded. “I’m- I’m sorry, um, sir, I-“

“I’m allowing you to come home, Tommy.” No no no no no no no no no no no-

“I know! Thank you- thank you, but… uh, it hasn’t been a year.” Phil raised an eyebrow. “You said one year.”

“That I did.”

“One year isn’t for a few days.” Please, please, don’t take Tommy from his brothers. He didn’t want to go!

Phil stared at him intently. Almost as if he was gazing into his mind. (He probably was. Tommy was Phil’s, after all. Why couldn’t he see its thoughts?)

(His thoughts. Not it.)

“You made a little friend?” Phil asked, condescension dripping from his cool tone. Tommy nodded vehemently, desperately.

And to Tommy’s shock, Phil just shrugged. “You can take him, then. I know you’ve seen me take servants before. This is the same deal. You’re allowed to keep your… Wilbur. But we’ll have to make a deal, okay? You get your little friend, and then I get to do something else that I’ll tell you about later.”

The ‘later’ implied that Tommy was going into this deal blind. Phil could do whatever he pleases with Tommy!

(But wasn’t that always the truth? Tommy never had free will. He would never truly be free.)

“Deal.”

Phil smiled (evilly) and stuck out his hand. Tommy grabbed it and they shook hands firmly.

“A year, then. I’ll see you in a few days.”

And then Phil was gone.

Tommy paused for a second.

And then a sob ripped out of his throat, causing him to fall to the ground.

He didn’t want to leave his home! His life here! He didn’t want to go back to Phil. He didn’t want his stupid memories at all! But he didn’t get that choice.

The only thing he got was Wilbur.

(He didn’t even get Techno. That was depressing. But he didn’t need Techno. He needed Wilbur. He needed Wilbur.)

He’d break the news tomorrow.

And one other thing. Tommy wasn’t going to force Wilbur to come with him unknowingly. He wasn’t Phil. He was good. (Tommy had to be good, always good.) So he’d ask Wilbur tomorrow, give him time to prepare and say goodbye. And then Wilbur would take his hand and Phil would bring them home.

And everything would be okay.

He just needed Wilbur.

Tik tik tik.

Two days went by. They were already home, and Tommy was still too much of a coward to break the news. Wilbur must’ve noticed he was acting sadder. He didn’t say anything, though.

So an hour before sunset, Tommy mustered up some courage.

“Wilbur, can we go for a walk?” One more day. Come on, Tommy.

“Oh, you wanna go watch the sunset?” Tommy nodded. “Sure, let’s go! Techno, we’ll be back in a little over an hour, prob’ly.”

“Alright. Don’t get kidnapped.”

And so they walked out of the apartment and down the streets in a comfortable silence, tandem footsteps hitting the pavement. Tommy’s mind, though, was racing. How was he supposed to tell his brother what happened? Almost too soon, they reached Wilbur’s spot for watching the sky.

Wilbur sat down and patted the spot next to him. Tommy took a deep breath and joined him.

Rip the bandaid off.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“… I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Wh-“

Deep inhale- “he’s coming and I got my memories back and I’m not allowed to stay and he’s taking me and I’m leaving and I remember everything and I don’t want to leave but I’m going and I don’t want to leave you and-“

“Tommy, Tommy, slow down. What’s going on?”

“I have to go away, Wilbur. I can’t live here anymore.”

“Is this about feeling like a burden again? Because I promise, Tommy, you’re our brother-“

“No, no, I know. My… my father is coming to take me home. When we were at the farm, uh, all of my memories came back. And now I have to go home.”

“Wh- what? I’m sorry, this doesn’t make sense.”

“I want you to come with me,” Tommy blurted. “I know I’m being vague and confusing and I don’t know if I can tell you everything, but I want you to come with me. He said you can come. I need you, Wilbur. You’re my favorite person.”

Wilbur paused before nodding. “Where are you going? Because maybe Techno and I can sell the apartment and we can come live near you and your father-“

“Techno can’t come. I’m- I’m sorry, he’s not allowed to come. Just you. Please. I need you.”

“I… Tommy. I’m sorry. If you’re honestly asking me this… I can’t leave Techno. He’s my twin brother. I’ve never voluntarily spent more than a day or so away from him! I can’t leave him.”

And Tommy’s heart broke.

“S- so you don’t wanna leave your real brother?”

“No, Tommy, you are my real brother. My little brother. And I love you. But I can’t abandon Techno.”

“So you’re abandoning me?”

“No, Tommy, of course not! First off, if you don’t want to leave, you can stay-“

“No, I don’t have a choice.”

“You do, Tommy. Your father can’t make you do anything.”

“Yes, he CAN! You don’t understand!”

“Then explain it to me! I just want to help.”

“Then please.” Tommy couldn’t help himself from starting to cry, his voice breaking. “Please don’t make me go alone. I need you. Please, Wil, you’re my favorite. I love you.”

“I love you too, Tommy.”

“Please.”

“Tommy-“

“Wilbur, I don’t want to be his! I’m your brother, yours, and I don’t wanna be alone! Please don’t pick him over me.”

“I don’t want that to be a choice at all, Tommy. I can’t choose one of my brothers.”

“But you are! You’re choosing him!”

“And I don’t understand where you’re even going, Tommy. Do you need help? Because we can stop your father-“

“You can’t. Stop saying that. I just-“ he broke off into crying. Wilbur scooted closer to him and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Please come with me.” Wilbur sighed deeply and released him.

“I can’t, Tommy. I’m never going to abandon Techno.”

Tommy sobbed harder.

The concept of goodbye terrified him.

Tik tik tik.

There was only one thing he could do, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. The problem was that Wilbur couldn’t decide between Tommy and Techno.

The problem was Techno.

Tommy’s vision went dark.

Tik tik tik.

“Tommy-“

Tik tik tik.

“What-“

Tik tik tik.

Blood on the floor. Tommy’s hands were shaking.

Wilbur was pulled out of Tommy’s memories with a shock that buzzed through his whole body, but it only added to his rage.

“YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!” he seethed, shouting.

“W-“

Wilbur didn’t let Tommy try and make up excuses. His vision went red, and he was fuming.

He charged at Tommy, swinging his fists, punching and kicking without any plan.

“FUCK YOU!” Punch. “I HATE YOU!” Punch. “YOU-“ punch “-KILLED-“ punch “-HIM!” A left hook right to Tommy’s nose. Tommy spun onto the ground and didn’t try to fight it. The red mark forming on his face was like a cherry on top, it felt like Wilbur was doing enough, because his anger was justifiable.

His brother was gone.

(Both of them.)

And honestly, Wilbur doesn’t even know if Tommy can feel pain. If what, he’s literally a god? And inflicting the barrage of punches was starting to sting, but Wilbur honestly didn’t give a shit. Pain was an outlet, and he wanted Tommy to suffer.

Tommy deserved pain.

With shaking hands, Wilbur grabbed Tommy by the neck and lifted him up, slamming him into the wall. Tommy’s eyes went wide with (childish) fear as Wilbur started to squeeze.

And suddenly, Wilbur and Tommy both went completely limp. Tommy crumpled to the ground, and Wilbur found himself somehow… hovering in the air, as if someone were holding him up.

He mustered up just enough strength to turn his head to the side.

Phil.

“Wilbur, is that any way to treat the boy who saved your life?”

Chapter Text

“What?”

Phil chuckled, amused, and with a small flourish of his hand, Wilbur could feel something happenening. The rage at the forefront of his mind started to drain away as a fog settled in his head, fabricating a sense of calm. Wilbur tried to fight it, but he was barely able to move his head at all, let alone shake it enough to dispel whatever magic Phil was using.

But then his anger bled out and Wilbur was left blankly accepting his fate. (It felt all too similar to when he first woke up without his memories: empty.)

“There you go,” Phil hummed. “Better?” Wilbur said nothing. (He wasn’t sure if that was because of fear or defiance.) “And all I mean by that is that I would’ve offed you too if Tommy hadn’t been so insistent. But… oh well. You know how well that went.”

With just a movement of his eyes, he glanced back over at Tommy. Phil noticed this and walked over to Tommy, who was still limp on the ground. “Isn’t he cute? I don’t know how you can stay mad at him.” Phil corrected his posture and stood so that he would menacingly tower over Wilbur. On shaky legs, Tommy stood up (with a blank stare) and took his place next to Phil. His head was down, so he couldn’t make eye contact.

And it dawned on Wilbur.

“You’re controlling him, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Phil deadpanned with a knowing smile.

“Or- or influencing him! Tommy wouldn’t do this-“

“You don’t know what Tommy wouldn’t do.” Wilbur clamped his mouth shut. “But listen, Wilbur. You’ve been very good for him. He’s been behaving so much better! So pliant. Still, I can’t have you acting out.”

“Fuck you,” Wilbur spat again.

“Now, now, let’s remain civil. I like you, Wilbur. You’re apparently a necessity to keeping Tommy passive. And I respect you. You’re smart enough to understand what’s going on here. So how about this: I take you and Tommy’s memories of all this, and you go back to normal.”

“No! No, you give me back all my memories!”

“What, so you can remember being homeless? You don’t need any of that. I could just as easily take all of both of your memories and rebuild new ones for you. It wouldn’t be impossible, but I’d feel bad taking away all of your character and personality.”

“Oh, you’d feel bad. I-“

“It’s really up to you, Wilbur. I’m sure we could come to an agreement.”

“I don’t trust you.” And Tommy was still technically in the room, but it felt like he wasn’t there at all. Wilbur felt trapped in Phil’s scrutinizing gaze, like a predator eying its prey.

And then the fog over his mind grew thicker, and Wilbur started to feel woozy. The haze was thickening into a syrupy feeling that made his thoughts move slow and his mind weak.

“I’m not a monster, Wilbur. I know you’re your own person.” That sounded like a blatant lie. “So how’s this? I take away a few of the memories that are making you feel angry, and you can spend some time with Tommy before his next lessons with me.”

“N- no-oh…” he slurred. Phil sighed.

“You’re a lot different like this,” he remarked. Wilbur hummed lazy agreement. “Would you rather just try and reconcile with my Tommy?” Tommy… no. He was bad. Wilbur shook his head. “Hmm, did I have too heavy of a hand with the magic? Here I thought we were going to have a civil discussion over our shared claim. I suppose I can just give you b-“

“Wilbur, come on, pack your things. He’s coming to get us any minute now,” Tommy prompted, shaking Wilbur awake. Wilbur sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Wait, what? No, I thought I was staying here with Tech-“

“We don’t have to worry about Techno anymore. I took care of that problem! Now I’m your favorite!” Wilbur paused, needing a second to process Tommy’s words.

“You what?”

“I’m your favorite now, Wilbur! Your favorite person. So you can come with me. You can stay with me for the rest of forever! I don’t have to be alone…”

Wilbur’s voice hardened. “What did you do to Techno?” he demanded.

“It- it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna be able to stay with me now, Wilbur! Finally, right? I can be your favorite, because you’re so nice and so smart and perfect, and I love you, and you’re my brother, and-“

“Did you hurt Techno?” Wilbur shrieked fearfully, jumping to his feet so he would just tower over Tommy. Tommy froze, eyes wide. There was a slight cloudiness to his pupils that Wilbur didn’t pay any mind to in his descent to hysteria. “Where is he? What did you do?”

“No- I- I don’t know, I don’t remember, but-“

“What did you do?”

“He’s gone! I- I don’t know- but it’s just me now, so now I can be enough for you, right? I need you-“

“No! Jesus, Tommy, I said no! This better be some sick fucking prank, but I swear-“

“He’s gone! He’s gone. Wilbur, you have me now, right? I just want to be enough, please, please let me be enough.”

“For fucks sake, Tom, I can love multiple people! Please, tell me where Techno is!”

“I told you.” No, no, Wilbur didn’t believe that. He couldn’t. Techno wasn’t gone. He and Techno made it through everything together! They’d narrowly escaped death together, committed crimes, saved each other! They were always there for each other. It was Wilbur and Techno against a cruel world.

“No no no no no, you can’t have, you can’t Tommy, I- no- oh god- T-“

“Hey, Wil, don’t panic! It’s okay, I promise, it’s okay, deep breaths, I’m here.”

“Fuck off,” Wilbur panted through his desperate gasps for breath. “I need- I need him.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Tommy exclaimed optimistically. “I’ve got you! And you have me! That means nothing can be bad anymore, because you’re always good, and you actually care, and you’re ni-“

“Stop,” Wilbur snapped, but his shallow breathing took away the power from the command. Tommy still flinched. Suddenly feeling weak, Wilbur fumbled to gather himself but wound up crumpling to his knees. And as he raised his head back up again, there was an ethereal figure standing there.

He practically had Tommy by the scuff of his neck, and with a smug smile that dripped with condescension, he cupped Wilbur’s chin in his hand. Wilbur’s chin quivered against his will, a rapid nervous tic. Wilbur moved, and Phil’s grip tightened, lightning fast reflexes to keep his prey from escaping.

And then, three figures disappear from a small, dank apartment. The residents’ absence from the apartment and the world will go unnoticed by a city that cares not for the individual. They will not be missed or mourned.

And Wilbur will learn that free will isn’t something that he will always be allowed.

“-ack a memory or two, like that, there we go, and then I’ll give you some time with Tommy, and we’re back to normal. Honestly, Wilbur, it would be easier without you around at all, but I can’t ignore your effect on Tommy. Or rather, the power of our deal. It’s much easier when I don’t have to compete with the universe for control of his spirit, mate. You like him, though, so I’m sure you won’t mind. In a way, it’s like we have a budding partnership, Wilbur. As long as you cooperate.”

“Mhm,” Wilbur mumbled, that being the extent of the sound he could muster in the state he was in. Phil smiled sweetly.

“Wonderful. Goodnight, Wilbur.” And Wilbur’s vision goes black.

When he came to, he was sitting in an extravagant room akin to a birds nest with how many blankets and pillows were strewn across it. Actually, with the way the walls were softly padded, Wilbur realized that it mightn’t be for comfort at all. It was like the padded walls of an asylum, of an inescapable prison (for the insane and those who were innocent but disobedient alike).

Oh- holy shit- his memories! Did Phil take any? Wilbur wracked his mind to figure out a timeline of events in his life; he tried to figure out if any gaps were apparent.

He lived with Techno, and then he met Tommy for a year, and then when Tommy… killed Techno, Phil brought them both here. Wilbur was imprisoned in this realm, and when he tried to escape, Tommy took his memories from him. Flash forward to now.

Wilbur hummed. It didn’t seem like anything was missing… but how the fuck would he know if anything was?

He grabbed a blanket in a tight fist and threw it at the wall. (No fucking windows, he never got windows!)

“FUCK!” he screamed, the sound ripping from his throat. And then, as if awoken by his screams, he heard a soft, scared squeak from under a blanket. Immediately, the fog of calm rushed back into his mind and Wilbur could feel himself going docile.

“Wilby?” a small voice peeped, delirious, terrified, and childish, but still unmistakably Tommy’s. And Wilbur had so much rage swirling in his mind like a storm, but he couldn’t release any of it! The fog fought his anger, and as they wrestled in his head, Wilbur feebly allowed the fog to win.

Calmly, he slumped down onto a pillow and reached for the blanket Tommy was under. Gently, he pulled it off, revealing Tommy’s head. He was trembling, eyes dilated and fearful.

“I’m s- so sorry,” he whispered shakily.

“I can’t forgive you,” Wilbur replied calmly with all of the coldness he could muster in his otherwise apathetic and drowsy tone.

“I- um…” he licked his lips and blinked sluggishly. “I dunno wha’s goin’ on. Can’t rem’ber.” That’s just cruel. Wilbur has to sit here, remembering every little thing that Tommy did to him but not being able to lash out (which he has every right to do!), and Tommy isn’t even allowed his memory of what he did wrong? He was fucking out of it , Wilbur noted.

“I think you might have done something very bad,” Wilbur said, putting it quite simply. But he knew something for a fact: all of his memories and thoughts could be false. Phil or Tommy could be altering his mind at any moment. And his suspicion that Phil had some control over Tommy was becoming more and more realistic. Who’s to say Tommy did any of the bad (horrible, terrible, disgusting) things of his own accord? And in the state he was in, Tommy couldn’t answer any of those questions.

And if he could, he had the capacity to lie to Wilbur!

Wilbur couldn’t help but start to cry again. There was literally no escape from his fate. Phil or Tommy or both or neither or something else entirely? It didn’t matter, but forces out of his control had perpetual control over him.

It was futile to even try.

“I can’t escape,” Wilbur admitted to himself weakly. “Can I.” Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, and he derived no comfort from the warmth of the blankets.

And Wilbur did not know what to feel when Tommy scooted closer to him and gently laid his head on Wilbur’s lap. Not too close to Wilbur, but just enough to be comforting.

“‘S gonna be okay,” Tommy promised.

Wilbur didn’t have the heart to shove Tommy away.

He just let himself cry.

“I wanna go home,” Wilbur mumbled, but it was petulant, defeated, one last spark of rebellion before the fire goes out. He wanted to be alone (he wants to be with his twin but that’s never going to happen) but he can’t.

Because Tommy is here. And Wilbur can’t leave.

Chapter Text

For what must be weeks of Earth time, (Wilbur didn’t know if time is actually different in whatever realm this is - but he knew that apparently nobody does much aging or dying) the only thing that Wilbur did was sob. He physically couldn’t get angry, so the only thing he did was cry himself out.

He didn’t allow Tommy near him. The kid was drugged up beyond all else on Phil’s magic, and it seemed he’d taken the liberty of borrowing most of Tommy’s memories too, but Wilbur couldn’t stand the sight of Tommy.

“Fuck you,” Wilbur cried for the millionth time. And the misty veil hid any of his thoughts of anger, stopping them from seeping through. Occasionally, he would sleep. It wasn’t an escape from his thoughts, though. Every time he fell asleep, his mind would deem it proper to present him with memory after memory until he woke up.

Almost every memory was of him and Tommy together on Earth. But from the few that weren’t, Wilbur tried to piece together a story of his past. With his memories plus Phil’s snide remark of ‘so you can remember being homeless?’, he figured that he and Techno lived on the streets of the city for a few years before they were able to rent out a small apartment from a landlord who didn’t care they were young kids.

Wilbur supposed it didn’t matter, though. It wasn’t like he remembered any of it anyway.

So he just started to succumb. Succumb to the haze. He’d stop fighting it, just let himself float away, out of his mind. He’d watch his body, detached from reality, floating drowsily in the haze. It was easier just to zone out. Tommy took the hint, staying out of Wilbur’s sight under a blanket in the corner. He definitely wasn’t lucid, either. Wilbur figured that this was Phil’s way of punishing him. Occasionally, Wilbur would ground himself in reality and glance over at Tommy, who would have blurred cloudy eyes (in the scarce chance that his eyes were open at all) and tear bubbles at the corners.

But looking at Tommy made his mind try to fill with rage, which the haze would suppress, and Wilbur would float away again.

That went on for a while. But at one point, Wilbur’s routine of the haze was disrupted.

He woke up, his mind graced with far clarity than he’d grown used to, to find Ranboo standing over him. They had a small bag held in shaking hands, and they looked distressed. Wilbur opened his mouth to ask if they were okay, but not using his voice for however long it had been had taken a toll, and he devolved into a bout of coughing.

“Uh, hey man,” they greeted. “Are you okay?” Wilbur recovered from his coughing fit.

“I’m s’posed to ask you that,” he replied, overly aware of how his voice sounded hoarse and airy. Ranboo looked concerned. “H- how did you get in here? There’s no door!”

“Teleported,” Ranboo replied simply. Wilbur knew it had to be the truth.

“So are you magic? Are you a god like they are?”

“No, no- no, definitely not. Um, it’s just about the world that I come from. Everyone has an ability there, which I’m sure makes sense to you. It’s not unlike magic, but I’m nowhere near the power of a god.” They fiddled with their hands anxiously. “Compared to my family, my power is basically nothing. Everyone can teleport where I’m from, and so, my other power, it’s being immune to spells and charms and stuff. But, uh, when I was taken here…”

“The fuckin’- the mind magic doesn’t work on you? Ranboo, that’s sick!”

Ranboo chuckled sheepishly. “Tommy thought that he was the one who gave me my mind. But it was just… less blurry? I dunno.”

“I know what a blurry mind feels like,” Wilbur grumbled. He didn’t sound very mad, though. He just felt apathetic about it. The haze seemed to like Ranboo, though. This was the most amount of coherent thought that Wilbur had gotten out in a while!

“So, um, I’ve done something that I definitely shouldn’t have,” Ranboo admitted. Wilbur cocked his head to the side as Ranboo pulled a clear bottle containing something swirling and colorful. (It looked kind of like how Wilbur imagined the fog in his mind.) “These are Tommy’s. I- I took ‘em from a cabinet in Phil’s throne room. I was cleaning.”

“So?”

Even if Tommy was forgetting things, that didn’t make a difference to Wilbur. What was that going to do for him? Tommy could remember more time spent with Phil? He obviously didn’t do much else besides meeting Wilbur.

“It’s most of his memories with me,” Ranboo said softly. The fog started to return to its thickened syrupy state as Wilbur tried to hang on. “We, uh, spent a lot of time together trying to figure out his powers in rebellion to Phil. We used to want to leave this realm together, Wilbur.”

What.

“I don’t know what Tommy found out, but one day… Phil… and Tommy pretty much had forgotten me. He- he still knew my name! But I wasn’t his best friend anymore. I was just a servant to him. And I know it was Phil.”

“He wanted to leave?” Wilbur asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“We tried. But he’s not in much control of his mind anymore.”

Wilbur knew that he was starting to get pissed in that the mist took over, overwhelming his vision. Desperately, he tried to fight it, but it forced him out of his head and into his blissful floating space.

Floating was nice. Wilbur was calm.

Why was he-

The mist felt good.

“Wil-“

The unrelenting saccharine sweetness of the haze fought reality. Wilbur whined, not wanting to leave the bliss.

“Wilbur, please come back.”

Wilbur hummed happily. The voice talking sounded really nice. He liked it. Like a melody dancing around his head, he heard whispers from around the pile of softness he was laying on. (He was back in his body?)

“Try it,” were the the only two coherent words that made it past the fog. And then-

Like the contrast between night and day, dark and light, Wilbur snapped out of the haze in an instant. All of his emotion and thought  and anger came surging into his mind like a dam breaking, and he nearly screamed right there.

He shot straight up, panting, tears streaming from his eyes. As he gasped for breath, he looked up to see Tommy and Ranboo in front of him.

Tommy, weakly leaning on Ranboo for support. Tommy, smiling at him with an overjoyed expression.

Tommy, who Wilbur fucking hated.

Wilbur tried to get up and attack Tommy again, but on weak, shaky legs, he collapsed to the ground. Putting all of his effort into raising his head, he looked up at the child who he once called a brother.

“I hate you,” he seethed.

“I know. But uh, if it helps, I got rid of the mist!” Oh. “I… I remember how to do a lot of things.”

“Like murder someone in cold blood?”

“That- that- I- it wasn’t really even me!”

“Bullshit.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy pleaded, his eyes too, now, clouding with tears, “I didn’t have control of my mind-“

“And you do now? Ranboo comes into the room with a magic potion, and all of a sudden, I have real Tommy back? Oh, the Tommy I knew for a year got mind controlled by an evil god even though he’s also an evil god, and now he’s back because of some kid giving him drugs?” Wilbur mocked. Ranboo and Tommy looked shocked. Offended.

Good.

“I’m not being irrational,” Wilbur continued. “I have no reason to trust you or even tolerate you. The only reason my hands are not wrapped around your throat right now is because I can barely hold my head up. But don’t forget this, Tommy. I hate you. I despise you. I loathe you for what you did to me, to Techno, and I will never forgive you.”

“It wasn’t me,” Tommy said, his voice breaking into a sob on the last word.

“It was. And even if it was because of Phil, I don’t know if I can believe you, or if I care, or-“

“Wilbur, d- do you mind if I try and tell you what I’ve gathered?” Ranboo interrupted, albeit timidly. Wilbur’s eyes shot daggers at them but he said nothing. “So… Tommy does have the potential for being as powerful as Phil. But he didn’t remember learning how to stop the controls Phil used on his mind. You know how Phil is, Wilbur. He’s at war with the universe at whole. Tommy was just his puppet.”

Tommy scrunched his face up. “That’s kinda mean.”

“When was the last time you did something that wasn’t in direct obedience of Phil?”

Tommy hesitated. “I don’t have all those memories,” he bit back. “But- Earth, right? That was a punishment. That wasn’t very long ago.”

Wilbur paused to think.

The facts lined up. Could he really hold Tommy accountable for something that he did while not in control of himself? Free will was a funny thing. If Tommy didn’t have it, was it his fault?

“Why didn’t you do this earlier, Ranboo? Save him?” Wilbur asked. “If Tommy was really a puppet.” There. There was a reason to be suspicious of this.

“I didn’t know what Phil was doing with the memories until Tommy’s most recent meeting with him after that dinner. I saw him take the memories, watched him wave a hand over Tommy’s temple, and the memories just passed through like smoke. And a small portion went into a bottle like that one,” they said, gesturing to the now empty bottle on the floor, “and the rest into Phil’s own mind, I can only assume. Then I had to find where he kept the bottles, which ones I would want, et cetera et cetera. I- I was only able to take this one before I panicked and ran because I heard footsteps.”

“… I still hate you both.”

Ranboo turned to Tommy, who looked heartbroken and ready to collapse. “He’ll come around, Tommy.”

“Please don’t make me put him back under the mist,” Tommy whimpered.

“You don’t have to. He’ll understand. It will all make sense to him soon, mate.” (Mate?) Tommy frowned and Ranboo welcomed him into their arms for a hug. (Were Ranboo’s eyes always blue?)

Distressed, Wilbur tried to push himself away from Tommy and Ranboo. Ranboo made eye contact with him, a concerned expression thinly veiling something else.

“Tommy, I-“

Ranboo(?) waved a hand.

Chapter Text

Static.

Ranboo left. Wilbur was feeling fuzzy, so he ended up falling asleep. He only stirred later upon hearing stifled gasps from Tommy’s corner. He sat up and looked over at Tommy, who had his back pressed up against the padded wall, desperately taking in breath after breath. His wide eyes were wet with tears. His sharp inhales grew quicker together and higher pitched, and he was probably going to knock himself out at this rate.

… Wilbur had let Tommy sob until he passed out before. But…

“Tommy?” Wilbur slowly crawled over to him like he was approaching an injured animal. “Hey, Toms? Can you please take a deep breath for me?” Tommy nodded frantically, taking in a long shaky breath. “Okay, good! Now hold it, and exhale. You’re doing so well, Tommy. Can you take another deep breath? And out.” Tommy choked out one more loud sob and fell down onto Wilbur’s lap. Wilbur froze.

Paused.

And then placed a gentle hand on top of Tommy’s head. (“He’ll come around.” He’ll settle. Wilbur knew he was failing. But he needed Tommy.) He gently carded his fingers through Tommy’s hair, feeling how, gradually, Tommy stopped trembling and his breath resumed its normal rhythm.

Just like old times.

“Wilbur…? Will you ever forgive me?” Tommy asked, his voice airy and fragile. Wilbur didn’t reply for some time, focusing on grounding himself by twirling one of Tommy’s curls.

“I don’t think I have a choice.” He had Tommy and only Tommy. He would be Tommy’s for the rest of time. He might as well suck it up and try to root himself in simpler times where he could love Tommy without remembering everything that had happened.

The past ruins everything. It’s easier to forget.

“You do. There’s always another option, for you, anyway. That’s why I love humans so much. I mean, in you, I channeled all of the free will that I will never have. None of Phil’s worlds are like Earth, you know. Free will leads to horrible things. So much death and pain. But it led to you. To us.”

“You have free will, Tommy.”

“No, I don’t. But that’s nice of you to say.”

“Tom-“

“I exist solely for Phil’s sake. I shouldn’t even- he didn’t want me to.”

“So then… why do you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, seriously, if Phil’s this all powerful being that rules the universe entirely, then why are you also here?” Wilbur had a budding plan at the back of his mind.

“I- the universe sent us- me because… well, Phil is always powerful enough, I was just-“

“Tommy, if there’s any way that we don’t have to spend eternity in this hopeless situation, I’m going to find it. You have to tell me the truth.”

“Tubbo s- said he’s getting weaker,” Tommy barely whispered, shaking again. “I don’t know if it’s true! Phil’s not weak, he’s not, he’s not.”

“But, theoretically Toms, you’re able to do anything that he can do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know how, I’m not very good at-“

“Tommy, don’t parrot back things that you’ve been told. This is all bullshit he’s fed you, isn’t it?”

“I- it’s not bullshit.”

“Okay, think of it this way. If Phil has unlimited power to do literally anything fathomable, and more, which he does, right?” Tommy nodded, and Wilbur continued. “Then if he doesn’t want you, why do you exist?”

“Be-“

“Because he can’t get rid of you, can he? Tommy, maybe, if this sentient universe who created you sent you to this realm and you’re still alive, maybe- maybe you’re meant to take his place!”

“No, no, I’m not-“

“It makes sense though, doesn’t it?” Wilbur stood up and started to pace around the room. “I mean, there’s so much fucking stuff that he does to keep you contained. Your memories are all fucked up and he’s trying to mind control you, and keep you passive with various servants and friends that he’s puppeteering, and he still punishes and manipulates you? Who in their right mind would go to that length?”

“Wil-“

“There’s an imbalance in the universe, Tommy. You can fix it! You can- you can destroy him-“ Wilbur started to laugh, “and you could send me home, you could bring Techno back, you could fix everything.” Wilbur started to cackle excitedly. “Tommy! You could make everything better! We can- we can make it all good again! Right? Can’t you- can’t you do that? You’re a fucking god! If you just use your magi-“

Tommy shook his head. “I can’t, I can’t! Wilbur, you-“

“Don’t interrupt me,” Wilbur snapped. And immediately, his eyes went wide as he remembered- not his place, but the situation he was in. Because he knew that he was not lesser than Tommy. But he was still weak. He was nothing compared to the power of a deity.

Instead of lashing out, though…

Tommy flinched and whispered profuse apologies.

“A world without hope is not one where life can be sustained, Wilbur. Everything will work out in the end. We’re resilient.”

“I know. But it’s hard.”

“Yeah, but at least we have each other?”

Wilbur snickered. “That was corny as fuck, Technoblade.”

“Bruhhhh, I’m tryin’ to comfort you!” Wilbur shoved his shoulder playfully and laughed again. But as soon as he saw that look in Techno’s eye, the look that meant Wilbur was about to lose a fight, he relented.

“Okay okay! I’m sorry!” Techno grinned victoriously, and the brothers turned back to stare at the night sky.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence.

“Our story has a happy ending,” Techno finally said. And Wilbur believed him.

“Tommy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“But… you’re still mad at me?”

“Yeah. But I have genuine hope that any problem that arises for us is solvable. That you can solve it. So maybe everything can be okay?”

“…I’m not in control of myself. I can’t hurt Phil.” Wilbur hummed.

“Tommy, what do you want? Out of everything in everything that exists, surely you have some goal or desire.” Tommy tucked his head further into his legs, forming a ball. His tentative answer came muffled from the fabrics of his clothing.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I want anything.”

“Well, what do you like? What makes you happy?”

“Y- you. And Ranboo. And… Phil.”

Wilbur sighed. He wasn’t even sure of where he was going with this. Seeing Tommy was far more tolerable than it had been, but only because the anger was fading in Wilbur’s mind. His bleak acceptance of his fate was now fighting his sparks of hope that there was a chance he could be happy again.

But maybe he should just succumb to apathy. (And then what? There was no escape from the fact that Wilbur was facing eternity.)

Wilbur and Tommy didn’t exchange any words after that conversation. Not for a while. But they didn’t go back to their old routine of staying on opposite sides of the room either.

After all, the fog was lifted.

So, they always stayed close to each other instead. In some way, Wilbur and Tommy were always touching. An eternity of being alone terrified Wilbur. If there wasn’t any hope of escape, he at least had Tommy to make his eternity bearable. He didn’t leave Tommy’s side, even when the memories came flooding back and he felt pissed.

He spent what felt like forever with Tommy snugly in his arms. His Tommy.

He would just wait until Tommy came around, decided to try and help Wilbur and escape. At some point, Tommy would realize that Phil needed to be eliminated. Even if it took centuries. Wilbur had an eternity (to get Techno back).

(He knew it wasn’t realistic. But when his emptiness turned back to desperate sobs on occasion, he would zone out and think of his perfect world. It was a little different every time - sometimes Tommy figured out a way to kill Phil, sometimes they were able to leave this realm somehow, and sometimes it was back before Wilbur had been brought here at all, if Tommy’s exile to Earth had been eternal. And it was just Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno. Wilbur would just drift away, imagining happy scenarios in his perfect world, until the real Tommy snapped him back into reality.)

At some point, Phil started taking Tommy out of the room for lessons again. And much to Wilbur’s excitement, Tommy retained his clarity and control over himself. He would come back after his lesson (back to the room where they were being kept prisoner, but Tommy didn’t seem to care as much as Wilbur did) and excitedly ramble to Wilbur about the new uses of his power that he’d learned. He’d create another world, or design a species, or even go with Phil down into a world to learn about it (and bring back a few unlucky humanoids to spend eternity in controlled servitude).

Wilbur didn’t really think about the fact that with relative ease, Tommy could create millions of lives. (Only with Phil’s permission and guidance. So Wilbur took any and all of his hatred for Tommy, his current situation and imprisonment, and the entire realm, and redirected it to Phil. It definitely wasn’t healthy, but his mind had decided to blame Phil for everything that was wrong, and by getting rid of Phil, everything would be okay again.)

Wilbur was aware that he was being childish. He was practically imagining Phil as some storybook villain that someone had to defeat! But it kept hope in his heart. That he could defeat the villain.

He just had to wait for Tommy to be ready.

Wilbur stopped crying at all after a long while. Sometimes, he would wake up, and realize that he couldn’t remember Techno’s voice, or his face. (Or his own face.) But it would come back if he focused. (Usually.)

No, Wilbur was okay. That’s what he would tell himself as he ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair, trying to stay present. At least he wasn’t alone. He had Tommy. And he tried to ignore the twisting coil of possessiveness in his heart when he looked down at him.

Or… nope. He wasn’t gonna do that. That wasn’t him.

And then…

“Hey, Wil?” Wilbur looked up at Tommy, who was just walking through the door shyly. Wilbur patted the blanketed floor next to him and Tommy dutifully sat down.

“Yes?” Wilbur asked once Tommy was at his side. Tommy nervously fiddled with his hands.

“Well, there’s, uh. Um. I don’t wanna phrase this wrong and have you get mad.”

“I won’t get mad at you, sunshine.” Not anymore. It was pointless to.

“Do you wanna leave our room for a little bit?”

Oh? Oh- oh holy shit! Finally? Leave the room? Get a chance to finally see anything besides the four padded walls that just symbolized his own insignificance.

“R- really?” Wilbur gasped excitedly. “Oh my- I can?”

“Yeah! Yeah, Phil told me-“ Wilbur’s face fell “-that we’re going to have a meal together. He wants to check in on you.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. It’s been a while. I think it would be nice.” Wilbur hummed suspiciously. “Please?”

Wilbur so desperately wanted to leave. There were a lot of upsides to this situation. For one, he could watch Tommy. And he could try and learn everything about this realm, everything that he’d not taken a second thought about back when he was actually able to leave if Tommy wanted him to. The downside was that he was scared of Phil.

Nah, fuck that.

“Sure, Tommy. For you.”

And so, the meal. It was weirdly, suspiciously, domestic. Phil asked Wilbur how he’d been, like it wasn’t obvious. (Tommy wasn’t as scared around Phil like he’d been last time they all ate together, though. Wilbur didn’t know how to feel about that.) And then, Wilbur decided to do an experiment. When a group of servants brought out the second course, they brought sharp knives with it.

Wilbur would be stupid if he didn’t try to stab Phil in the fucking throat.

And he knew that Phil saw him coming. There was no way he didn’t. Well, it was his own fault, putting the place settings for Wilbur and Tommy right next to his own. But he still could have dodged Wilbur’s knife.

He didn’t.

The knife didn’t break skin, though. Despite Wilbur using his full strength, the point of the knife stopped short in the air just as it was about to imbed itself in Phil’s neck. And then Wilbur pushed it forward a little bit, pressing it against Phil’s skin.

Phil looked at him, disappointed. Disappointed.

“Fuck. You,” Wilbur seethed.

Needless to say, a servant was called to bring Wilbur back to the room. To Wilbur’s excitement, it was Ranboo! (As they collected Wilbur, though, he struggled to get away and run to Tommy, who was in distress. Phil was trying to soothe him, whispering ‘it’s alright’ and ‘Wilbur will settle’. No, he fucking would not.)

“Hi Ranboo,” Wilbur greeted as they firmly grabbed his shoulders to steer him down the halls. “It’s been a while. How are you?” Their eyes were their normal heterochromatic coloring. Wilbur wasn’t sure why he took specific note of that.

Ranboo didn’t respond to his question.

“Ranboo? Is everything okay?”

“No,” they whispered harshly. Wilbur tensed. “I’ll tell you in a second, just stay quiet.”

Wilbur nodded obediently, and Ranboo continued to lead him through the palace. They brought him past the room, into an area that Wilbur didn’t even think he recognized! Then, they pushed him into a corner and quickly began to speak.

“I didn’t think I’d have to tell you, but I found out from Tommy that it’s been happening again. Well, he doesn’t know, but, uh- okay. So I told you about the fact that there’s some weird stuff with magic where I’m from. One of those is- is enderwalking. My parents told me a myth about how the royal family was given a gift, to have a second being that lived in their mind to do all of the hard parts of life for them. Like- like- waging war, executions, amongst… other stuff. Uh- I probably sound crazy.” Wilbur numbly shook his head, although of course this knowledge came as a shock to him.

“O-okay. Thanks. But, t- to sum it up, I don’t trust my enderwalk. I think they’ve spoken with Phil, somehow, because I find Tommy telling me about things I said to him that I definitely didn’t. I never- well, you probably won’t wanna know. But I realized that I don’t even remember what happened at the end of my visit to you and Tommy with the memories! So I need to know, what did I do? Did I hurt you? Because- because- I-“

“You didn’t hurt me, don’t worry. I- I didn’t know, but…”

Ranboo’s eyes were blue.

“Your eyes were blue. I don’t remember what you said, but it wasn’t anything bad. That’s all I know.” Ranboo breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry to be doing this to you, Wilbur. You shouldn’t have to deal with my problems.”

“No, it’s okay! We’re friends.” They smiled.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

No. They were both prisoners of their own fates.

“Can you come and visit me and Tommy again? Don’t bring Enderboo, though.”

“Enderboo?” Ranboo giggled inquisitively.

“Yeah, that’s what we can call your alter ego! Maybe you two can become friends, though, and they won’t wanna help Phil anymore.” Ranboo nodded.

“Sure, kid.” And then Wilbur was returned to his padded prison.

Time blurred again. Time is but an illusion, after all. Wilbur was alone sometimes. More often, he was with Tommy.

And then, another meal invitation. Wilbur was genuinely surprised that he was being given a second chance.

His food came already cut up. His only cutlery was a dull fork. (He at least would’ve preferred one of those funky kids forks that are plastic and have fictional characters on them. An echo of a happier time, he supposed.)

They kept up polite conversation. Wilbur didn’t care for it, initially. But then he looked over at Tommy. And he supposed that speaking to Phil was worth it to see Tommy happier.

Regardless of that fact, Wilbur still tried to convince Tommy to figure out a way to use his power to eliminate Phil as soon as they were back in the room.

“Tommy, please, I just want to leave. We could leave! You used to want to, Ranboo said!”

“Ranboo told me that didn’t happen. And that we can’t leave anyway. It’s not possible.” Fucking Enderboo.

And then another meal invitation. And another.

“He’ll settle.”

Phil dropped his knife on the ground. Wilbur watched with wary eyes as it clattered on the floor, making a noise loud enough that both he and Tommy flinched. Phil merely hummed a noise of discontent.

“Oh my. Wilbur, could you pick that up for me?” he asked, his tone level. Slowly, Wilbur bent over, reached for the knife, and handed it to Phil.(Wilbur only realized after that he was handling the knife safely, the handle pointed towards Phil and the blade towards himself.) Phil smiled, quite satisfied with himself.

He took the knife.

“Thank you.”

Wilbur started finding himself initiating conversation as well. Or being genuinely excited to speak at the dinner table. He started to look forward to mealtimes.

He told himself that it was just because he liked leaving the room. But he knew the truth, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. (He was settling, he was giving up! Techno would’ve never failed like this. But at least Techno wasn’t condemned to this fate.)

The only thing that Wilbur had was his routine. Usually, he was with Tommy. Wilbur considered this his default state, where he was normal and as happy as was possible. Sometimes, he was alone. Tommy’s lessons were getting longer and longer, and Wilbur learned that Phil was teaching Tommy how to create religions on his worlds by various circumstances or even by appearing to a mortal.

Wilbur found his hands moving by instinct, waving through the air as if running through phantom strands of hair. He would sit by the side of the wall that he’d learned had the door, just waiting for Tommy to come back. (Like a fucking dog waiting for his human. Wilbur was aware of it. He was inferior to Phil and Tommy, and yet they kept him around, and he found his heart swelling with love and happiness, around Tommy at least. He loathed himself for it.)

And then there were the dinners. Sometimes, the table held foods from Earth that Wilbur actually recognized, or even remembered liking! Those meals were his favorite.

At some point, Wilbur realized that he no longer hated the sound of Phil’s voice. It was soft, almost as if he cared about Wilbur, which obviously wasn’t true, but…

If Phil wasn’t going to hurt him, he could pretend. And…

“Tommy, will you go back to your room?” Phil asked as the servants started to clear their plates. “I want to speak to Wilbur. Alone.” Shit. This was- this was bad. Tommy nodded dutifully and promptly left the room. “So, Wilbur. You’re not in trouble, mate. I just wanted to uphold my side of our partnership for working with my Tommy!”

“Oh. Alright.”

“He’s never behaved so well before, but I’ve also never seen him happier! You’ve been very good for him. I just wanted to check on you, without Tommy here. We both want to see him happy, you know.” Rubbish. Phil wanted Tommy to be obedient. The happiness was an added bonus, appreciated but not necessary. “So how are you really doing? Not the sugarcoated tripe you’ve been bullshitting at our mealtimes to keep Tommy comfortable.” Wilbur froze, his eyes widening.

“I- I’m not-“

“Let me finish. It’s rude to talk over someone, Wilbur.” Wilbur nodded, not wanting to risk apologizing verbally. “I know your assimilation has been tough. But you’ve warmed up to Tommy again, and dare I say you’re learning to respect me as well?” Wilbur’s face went red with a twinge of humiliation. He hated this.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Hmm, alright. I just have one last question for you then.” With barely a movement of his finger, Phil conjured up a door that was slightly ajar. Through it, Wilbur could see a swirling blue extent of space and color, flashing and twinkling greater than the heavens themselves. It was like a magical version of the night sky. (It had been so long since Wilbur last saw the sky.)

“What is this?” Wilbur asked breathlessly.

“It should bring you back to Earth,” Phil replied simply, like this was no big deal. “Although I couldn’t tell you how much time has passed there. At least a few… centuries, is it?” Wilbur’s breath hitched and he couldn’t help but tremble. He could leave. “I personally wouldn’t take the offer, though. Everyone and everything you know is gone. Plus, what about Tommy? I’d want him to remember you. Remember how he trusted you.” How, if Wilbur left, Tommy would believe that the only person who cared was Phil. Could Wilbur abandon Tommy?

Just to leave for a cold, cruel world that never cared for him at all? (The only thing on Earth for him was Techno. And Techno was gone.)

Still… Wilbur could leave. He could be a human again.

He took slow, tentative steps towards the door. He could practically hear the smug smile on Phil’s face. No matter what Wilbur did, Phil won. But Wilbur only benefited from one option.

He knew what he had to do.

He reached for the doorknob…

And pulled the door shut.

“Good boy.”

A sigh of relief.

Wilbur had done the right thing.

“You’ve earned a reward, Wilbur. How would you like to have a different room, like your old one? With books, a bed, hard floors, et cetera. Would you like that?” Wilbur was overwhelmed, barely keeping himself together.

“I don’t- would I be alone in the room?”

Phil hummed. “I suppose you and Tommy can share.” Wilbur nodded vehemently.

“Yes, yes! Please,” Wilbur nearly begged. Phil smiled.

Phil brought him to the old room, and opened the door that Wilbur never used to have access to. Tommy was sitting in Wilbur’s spot by the door, bouncing his leg restlessly. He looked up as soon as the door pushed open, flopping back onto the soft floor.

“Oh! Hi Phil! I don’t think you’ve seen our room, not for a while, and-“

“Actually, Tommy, Wilbur and I decided that it’s time for you to go back to your old room. I’m going to bring a bed for Wilbur too, so you can still have him.” Tommy’s eyes were starry and blown out. And as Wilbur settled into his new room, making his bed and running his fingers down the spines of the large extent of books and artifacts Tommy had, he couldn’t help but smile.

He could live like this.

Chapter Text

Tommy couldn’t help but grin when he saw Wilbur’s face light up, entering his old room. Well, Tommy had missed it too, but he was just excited to see Wilbur so happy. Especially since Wilbur had been weird lately. Tommy didn’t mind that he was a lot more touchy, always insistent that Tommy was at his side. (Tommy knew he didn’t deserve all of this affection and forgiveness, so he tried not to give Wilbur a reason to remember he should hate him.) Forgiveness. Can you imagine? But he’d figured out pretty quickly that Wilbur didn’t like it when he talked too much.

Which… also fine. He didn’t have too much to say.

Although, he missed when Wilbur would go on rants about ‘getting rid of…’ him . It wasn’t that Tommy didn’t want him to be gone forever . (He had tried so hard to be Wilbur’s Phil. To take his memories and mind, and just have him. But Tommy fucked it up. He did the magic wrong, or something, and he didn’t have it in him to be cruel and controlling anyway. Not on his own, not without him helping in the back of his mind.)

Tommy wasn’t cut out to be him . He wasn’t good enough at being in charge of the universe, or whatever they actually did. And without him keeping Wilbur from leaving…

Wilbur gasped excitedly, and Tommy immediately whipped his gaze up from the ground to look at him.

“Tommy! Holy shit, your closet is huge!“

“Oh, yeah! And guess what- guess what- there’s a chair in there.” Wilbur gave him a look. “It’s a really comfy chair,” he added shakily. Tommy used to sit there all the time, hiding behind the rows of clothes that he didn’t really like, (before he realized that he could just make clothes) and finally breathe. He would be hidden, and therefore unable to be perceived. Wilbur nodded.

Later, he came in to help make sure Wilbur was settling in. Tommy stayed in the corner, out of the way. Then the room had two beds, as well as however many more clothes and books. Wilbur did love to read.

How benevolent.

Wil was still being weird today, though. He looked distressed, but he was acting far bubblier than normal. But when he plopped down on his new bed and patted the soft blankets next to him, inviting Tommy to join him, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they would go back to their normal routine now.

Tommy ran and threw himself onto the blankets, ready to just relax and go back to normal. But then-

“Tommy, I… have something to tell you. What Phil told me just now, after we ate.” No, no, Tommy didn’t want to know.

“No,” he mumbled, covering his ears and scrunching his face up. “Please don’t.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Wilbur soothed, easily pulling Tommy’s arms off of his head and holding them down so that Tommy wasn’t able to pull them back, thrash, or run.

“I don’t wanna know,” Tommy replied childishly.

“It’s important. He- he had this door, and he said that it would take me to Earth… but I, um, didn’t go.”

Oh.

(Wilbur didn’t say ‘go home’, or ‘back to Earth’, or even that he wanted to leave. He honestly, really, truly wanted to stay?)

“Why?” Tommy breathed. Wilbur sighed, moving so that he was sitting next to Tommy instead, not making eye contact, but rather holding him from the side. (Still tightly, Tommy couldn’t move, even with only one of Wilbur’s arms around him, but it didn’t hurt.)

“I mean… why should I? It’s not like I have anything there for me.”

“Your freedom ?” Tommy replied, the statement barely audible. He shouldn’t be protesting this! If Wilbur didn’t regret not leaving him, Tommy didn’t wanna make him! But still, it felt wrong. Wilbur wasn’t supposed to be the weak one.

“I guess.” Wilbur shrugged. “But I’d rather stay here with you.”

Tommy hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. Finally, he landed on, “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He sighed, long and shaky. Tommy didn’t want to move, even if he would like to rest his head on Wilbur’s shoulder. So he just sat in silence. Like normal.

(It was easier to not be the Phil. And it felt so much better.)

“Do you wanna read something?” Wilbur finally asked, breaking the silence. Tommy nodded, and Wilbur got up to browse the bookshelves. He grabbed some random novel and sat back down, reading it out loud.

Tommy fell asleep after a while.

And in darkness, he was pulled below sleep, out of his body, his mind. He gasped, desperately trying to pull in breath to no avail. It was dark, even though he was pretty sure his eyes were open. And then, swirling before him, appeared what seemed like a mosaic of stars, like whatever he was floating in was made of galaxies or the universe itself.

Oh. Oh shit.

The air seemed to harden around Tommy’s chin, forcing it up. But the universe was gentle, and it didn’t hurt.

“Hello, my creation,” the universe cooed, her voice affectionate. Tommy trembled, trying to curl in on itself, but she didn’t let him. “Oh, no, no, don’t be afraid. I bring you no harm.”

It looked around, trying to put a face to the voice, but it was only able to see the pitch darkness, sparkled with stars. It couldn’t even bow its head because she was holding it up! Budding tears threatened to run down its cheek.

“I have an offer for you,” she said, her voice echoing in his skull, melodic like a harp. “But I want you to agree.” Tommy mustered the ability to nod. She giggled, and contagious happiness crept at the edges of its fear. “Let’s not be overzealous, Tommy. Can I explain first?”

“Yes,” it whispered, and its voice was swallowed up by the soundlessness of space. But she heard it nonetheless.

“Phil and I shared our power for a very long time. Until he wanted more, wanted it all to himself. And I was condemned to this fate. Trapped. And I was rendered powerless for millennia, until I was able to amass enough to create your predecessors, who were still too weak, and then you , Tommy. My perfect creation. To take Phil’s place, to be my vessel that would act upon my will and rule over our domain for good. Over everything.”

It didn’t understand.

“I-“

“I wasn’t able to reach you for too long. He used his magic to prevent that. He was too strong. But just now, he tore a hole in space time, and it weakened him. And I was finally able to break through to you, Tommy.” She said its name like it was something precious. “And I’ll finally be able to speak to you. To rule with you.” She laughed again, this time saturated with relief.

Tommy said nothing.

“What I’m asking of you is simple. Do I have your permission to finally promote you, have you take over his position, and get rid of him? ”

“I… I don’t know how to…” To do anything . Let alone take over Phil’s duties in the universe.

Even if it was what his creator wanted.

“I would be there. In your head. Always. I would never have to leave you again, Tommy. We would be one. And finally, I would have control over everything.” Tommy blinked dumbly. “But you’d have complete autonomy,” she amended quickly. “I wouldn’t control you like Phil did. That wretched being, manipulating my creation. I’ll make him suffer for it.”

Tommy made a strangled noise. It wasn’t like it could refuse, anyway. But it had one concern on its mind.

“But… Wilbur?” it forced out shakily.

“Oh, your little friend from the world you made?” It could feel her smile whispered around it, finding it endearing. She terrified it, the extent of her power. But it nodded. “Yes, you can keep him. You’re sweet. I know you’ll care for the universe with as much love as you give to Wilbur , because you are kind and good. I made you well.”

The air around it began to harden more, forming more hands that ran through its hair and up its back, petting it lovingly. (It didn’t tense like it did when Phil touched it. But it didn’t lean in like it would for Wilbur.)

“Would you like to finally ascend to your true purpose, Tommy? I’ll help you every step of the way. You’ll have all of the power you need. The universe will be ours. Phil will be gone. I just need you to say yes.”

… If Tommy said yes, it could bring Techno back for Wilbur. It didn’t understand any of this, and there was so much, but it knew that it couldn’t refuse.

So, meekly yet definitively, it whispered a single word.

“Yes.”

And a wave of feeling hit it suddenly, and everything felt very heavy. It could feel her tugging it down into unconsciousness.

“I’ll be there when you awaken, my child,” her voice whispered from every side, surrounding it.

Tommy was pulled back into the darkness.

When he opened his eyes, he could feel something different. There was a voice in the back of his head, a buzzing presence.

“ Hello, Tommy, ” she whispered.

“Hello,” Tommy replied nervously.

“Tommy?”

Tommy jumped, almost falling off the bed.

It was just Wilbur. Tommy breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed into Wilbur’s arms. Wilbur paused for a second before allowing Tommy to melt into his hold.

“Is something wrong?” Wilbur asked.

“I can bring him back,” Tommy whispered fervently. “She got rid of Phil. I- I can bring Techno back.”

“Woah, wait, what? Back up a second.”

“The universe? I think-? I don’t understand, I wasn’t able- I was overwhelmed- listen. I need-“

Shit, wait, Tommy didn’t know if he could trust his own mind. What if this was all a trick from Phil to see if Tommy would misbehave if given the chance? How could Tommy assume that he could trust his creator just because he could feel her… presence… in the back of his head…

No, Tommy had to find out for himself.

He threw himself out of Wilbur’s lap and sprinted for the door. Ripping the door open- (“Woah, holy shit, you can open the door?” Wilbur gasped) -Tommy ran down the hallway to find Phil’s office. He had to see for himself.

“Tommy, wait, please-!”

There was no way Phil was just gone, without a trace, after everything he’d done to Tommy, after how powerful he was, after all of it. It wasn’t possible. Tommy’s creator couldn’t just get rid of Phil. Phil! Phil, the most powerful being in existence.

And Tommy certainly couldn’t take his place.

“Tommy, slow down, man,” Wilbur beckoned, still chasing after him. But Tommy couldn’t, he had to find out!

He made it to the doors of Phil’s office and rested his hand on the doorknob. Deep breath. And he slammed the door open.

The room was empty.

Nope. No way. Phil had to be somewhere else. With an expression of desperation, Tommy pushed past Wilbur to run down the hall. Maybe Phil was in the dining room! Sitting at the head of the table like he always was, flexing his position of power!

“Tommy! Please, tell me what’s wrong!”

Tommy ignored Wilbur. Wilbur would forgive him for this. But if Phil found out what Tommy had done-

“ Tommy. Stop ,” she hissed. Tommy froze, his heart jumping in his chest. He was trembling, yet he couldn’t will his legs to move.

Wilbur caught up to him.

“Tommy, what happened?”

“Uh, well,” Tommy laughed wetly. “I saw my creator, hah. Phil’s gone. Apparently. And she’s in my head , and I don’t know if I’m in control of myself, but I’m supposed to be Phil now? I- for everything? So…” Tommy took in a shaky breath and sighed. “I can… I… do you… Techno?”

Wilbur gasped. “You really mean…?” Tommy nodded. There was a silence that spoke volumes. And then, “No, I don’t want to.”

“What?”

“I just want to let him rest. Not to condemn him to an eternity he didn’t sign up for.”

“B- but you’re stuck here! I thought-“

“Yes, but I made the choice to be here, Tommy. I can’t just make the choice for him, y’know?”

“… Okay.”

“ He really does forgive you, you know. You’re very lucky to have him.”

“I know.”

“Now, apologize and tell him you’ll spend time with him shortly. I just have to use you for something momentarily, my Tommy.” Tommy nodded hesitantly.

“Wilbur, you can-“ He didn’t have to go to his room anymore! “- do anything you want, I’ll be back soon. Sorry. I have to t-“

Tommy’s vision went blue, like his eyes were glazed over with a desaturated version of the starry skies he’d previously been floating in. His mouth continued to move, but he couldn’t hear the words he was saying. And then his body moved on autopilot, walking without him.

He took the back seat, allowing her to take control. When he came to, jolted back into control, he was sitting in a room that he’d never seen before with Wilbur.

“Sorry,” he apologized compulsively.

“No, no, you haven’t done anything wrong.” Tommy blinked.

“It hasn’t set in yet,” he remarked numbly.

“I know. Me neither. It’s a lot.”

Tommy chuckled. “We won, though. This is what you wanted! R- right?“ It almost felt too easy. And yet… (Tommy still felt like he was a puppet, and now it was just a different entity holding the strings.)

“Right.” But Wilbur was happy. And that was what mattered.

It was finally just Tommy and Wilbur. He did it. Wilbur was his. Finally. Tommy won. He had his brother all to himself.

Finally.

He pulled his brother into a hug and sighed contentedly.